Black Wolf: Three Fates
by Kat Wylder
Summary: With their pockets a little fuller and their guard a little higher, Randi and Fred depart from Solaris. The path ahead has many obstacles, but the greatest dangers are those unseen. A storm is brewing as three destinies begin to intersect. RR please.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Randi leaned over the bar counter, staring into her drink apathetically. She hadn't really come for the liquor, so much as a place to get out of the rain. As had become usual over the past month, what started out as a very hot day had quickly turned into a messy, rainy evening. One might think that all the rain would clear the streets. No matter how much refuse and rubbish the water swept down into Solaris' storm sewers, the exact same amount of trash was back on the sidewalk the very next morning and the stains on the pavement simply never went away.

The Clan-expatriate shot a glance over her shoulder to the entry of the small bar. The proper door was slid back in front of the wall, and a piece of fabric hung from the door frame as the only barrier between the small, warm bar and the downpour outside. It had gotten worse since she came inside, and that meant she was going to be waiting awhile until the rain let up—or until she got tired of waiting and no longer cared if she arrived home soaked to the bone. It was really a matter of which one came first.

She downed the shot she'd be given, and immediately decided it was _not_ a pleasant taste. Seeing that her glass was empty, the bartender offered her another shot; she firmly declined with a shake of her head. The drink warmed her a little but so would a nice, piping mug of coffee. The recipe she'd been drinking of late had been a little hard to get used to at first, as it was a particularly bitter variety of black coffee, and there was rarely any sugar around the apartment. By this time, however, she had come to associate the taste with morning.

Looking back out at the street again, it was clear that the rain had outlasted her patience. Randi laid down her C-Bills and set the shot glass on top of the money, then turned and slid off the bar stool. She brushed aside the fabric that hung over the doorway and shoved her hands into her pockets. As she walked out, the rain cascaded off the building's overhang down onto her head and shoulders. She realized that she could have brought an umbrella or a jacket, but why bother? She wasn't made of sugar.

As dreary as the rain was, today was not a day to be depressed. She was actually in a rather pleasant mood, and no amount of rain was going to ruin that. Today was the day she'd been waiting for since she first arrived on Solaris VII. Today, she was leaving.

The ten minute trek through the storm brought Randi to the door of her apartment building just as the sun began to peek out from behind the clouds.

"Typical," she muttered, as she stepped into the foyer of the building, sopping wet. She untied her hair and wrung the water out of it, then smoothed it back a little and wrung out the lower part of her shirt. As she stood, a fat drop of water hit the bridge of her nose and rolled off the the floor. The building's ceiling was leaking again, contributing yet another ugly, brownish water stain. She hooked her foot against a bucket on the floor and scooted it under the leak before continuing down the hall to her apartment.

Randi had relocated immediately after the fiasco with Jen Sanders, and the short-notice of the move had made it impossible to find living quarters of any quality. Of course, she felt lucky that she'd found any place at all to stay. Her employer, Fernando "Fred" Acosta had spent a week in the hospital, followed by a week of crashing in the office of the MechHangar with a laser pistol in his hand before he was able to find lodging for himself. Fred didn't trust for a minute that Marcus Prewitt had given up on trying to best him—or worse—especially since Fred had dispossessed him of his 'Mech.

Starting today, though, things were going to be different for the mercenaries. There would be no more skulking around the bloodpits of Solaris, hurriedly trying to rack up C-Bills for their departure, no more looking over their shoulders every time they stepped outside, and no more of the monotonous days and nights that the dreary slums of the city had given them. Solaris VII was a gleaming gem of games, entertainment and luxury to the wealthy and privileged, but to everyday MechWarriors like Fred and Randi, it was just another worm-eaten apple of a city that happened to have a few more neon lights than most.

"Kerensky," Randi muttered under her breath as she inspected her suitcase. "I can hardly wait to get out of here."

She dug around her apartment for a moment more, making sure that she had packed all the possessions she would want or need. When she was finally satisfied that everything she owned—which was not much—had been accounted for, she quickly grabbed up the suitcase and darted out the door. On her way past the unattended front desk of the complex, she dug the room key out of her pocket and tossed it on the desk. It would be their problem if someone made off with the key.

She hurried down the steps outside into a light drizzle of rain, and then cut her way through the crowds and the traffic to the spaceport. The place was abuzz with activity even in this dreary weather. Cargo tracks, luggage trains, and personal vehicles weaved through the port like a maze; even a few _Copper_ 'Mechs stomped around, for security. As she cleared security and ran her luggage through the scanner, the familiar form of a _Leopard_ DropShip loomed ahead.

A chiming greeting of "Gooood evening!" quickly got her attention. Randi turned to see Fred Acosta as he strolled up to her with his usual carefree grin. He tipped his hat as he approached her, and then suddenly frowned. "Forget your umbrella?"

"It's in my suitcase," Randi replied.

"I hope you know, that does defeat the purpose of having one..." he said, somewhat thoughtfully. "Didn't your mom—I mean, didn't anyone ever tell you, you'll catch your death of cold by being out in the rain like that?"

"No."

"Well, you will." Fred took the hat he was wearing and plopped it down on Randi's head. "Now, come on, the captain's getting antsy and the coffee's getting cold."

"Gladly!" Randi chirruped, more than ready to begin the voyage. Today, there was nothing in the universe that could ruin her mood.

* * *

The old adage said that time heals all wounds but for Major Jamar, it was like a slowly burning acid. Everything had gone downhill since he followed Star Commander Leroux off-world. The Clanners were all gone or dead, the precious schematics had again slipped through his fingers, and what pieces of his _Daishi_ and the rest of the command lance could be scraped off the field were now in the hands of the Scimitars Mercenary Company. Worst of all, his beloved Leah had been killed by Randi of the Wolves.

"I always knew she was bad karma," he murmured, thinking of the Clanswoman once more. Somehow, everything unfortunate that happened to him went back to her. Deep down, he knew he was more than partly to blame for these events.

He was the one who made raids against the seemingly weak Wolf Clan garrison on a neighboring world. Until that point, they had been content to leave O'Dellia and its satellite Lukina in peace while they tended to their own affairs. Perhaps if he had left them to their own devices or even been content with what 'Mechs he had stolen from the Clan, things might have turned out in his favor. Instead, he had allowed the confidence of victory to grow into arrogance and lust for further power. Repeating the cyclic life story of humanity, he wanted what he couldn't have, and doomed himself by reaching for a forbidden fruit.

The raid for the new Omni design was a failure as well, and if he'd paid more attention, that would have been another warning to give up. The prototype was destroyed, the print schematics disappeared, and all the Clan computers recovered were either irreparably damaged or wiped clean. It was like a message from fate itself, and he just refused to listen.

As he trotted along through the dim night in his _Wasp_, all he could think of was how much he wanted to kill the murderous Wolf Clanner who took Leah from him. He jogged along at a hampered cruising speed due to a problem in the engine that the techs had yet to solve. It was a strange thing to go from a Clan OmniMech named for its deathly firepower to a little sliver of a machine that could only gnaw on its foes with a handful of puny lasers. It reminded him again of how far he had fallen.

Behind him in single file were two _Hornets_ and a _Locust_. The quartet of insect 'Mechs was an aging lance leftover from the time before he began attacking the Wolves. Now, this antiquated technology was about all the militia could afford. Any new BattleMech purchase was out of the question. The only reason they could afford to keep the 'Mechs they had, was the amount of free labor they received from Wolf Technicians captured in previous offensives.

Jamar was still mulling over his life and whether he could ever drag himself out of this mud hole or at least kill Randi Wolf, when the comm came to life with an unfamiliar voice.

"Attention, militia soldiers," said a man. His voice was smooth and even, lacking either fear or the adrenaline of combat. "You have committed a great offense against us, but there is now a chance for you to redeem yourselves."

"What?" Jamar responded, utterly confused by the cryptic message. He scanned his radar and every one of his sensors for signs of an unknown unit. The HUD displayed no enemies, and the 360° combat view that was squashed down into a presentable 270° screen showed no evidence of movement besides that of his three lancemates.

The unknown man continued, disregarding the major's query. "Though you have already proven yourselves to be nothing more than pirates, I am willing to allow you to continue in your existence if you do but one thing."

"What thing? Wha— who are you?" He hit the lance-only frequency. "All stop! Everyone, get in defensive formation and start scanning for enemies!"

"We will leave this world peacefully if you will simply return to us what is rightfully ours. You will hand over the OmniMech schematics which are a rightful property of this Clan. I would prefer to reclaim them with no blood spilled."

"Sorry, sir," cut in one of Jamar's lancemates. "There's nothing on scope."

"He may be out of range," acknowledged Jamar. He was becoming more nervous, his heart frozen stiff by the snakes of ice rippling through the cooling vest, his lungs shrinking, and his adrenaline pumping hard. He hit the comm. "We don't have the schematics! I don't know who you are, but I can't give you something I don't have."

The man on the other end of the transmission seemed to mull over the major's statement for a second.

"Freebirth scum of the InnerSphere, if you will not accept my offer then you must pay for your actions. Prepare for battle! Show me cowardice and I will make you _suffer_," he said, his voice edging into a deep growl. "I do hope you put up a good fight. Prey is best when its blood is still hot with the struggle."

"Wait! No! Wh-who are you!? Identify yourself!" panicked Jamar.

"My name..." said the man,"is Akela Kerensky. It is the _last_ name you will ever hear."

A weak gasp hissed out the major's lungs as five enemy signatures appeared surrounding his lance, and the computer reported five matching cold-starts. The foremost OmniMech was perched looking down from a ridge some six hundred meters ahead, with the soft light of the moon accenting its lines as it moved. The turtle-like _Puma_ stood from its crouched position, and three _Phantoms_ and a _Pouncer_ stood as well.

With his dying breath, Major Jamar tried to curse Randi of the Wolves for all she had done. Before he could speak her name, however, the cockpit of the _Wasp_ was vaporized in a wrathful slew of ions from the _Puma's_ PPCs.

The Warrior's prediction was fulfilled.


	2. Chapter 2

_This story is a preview no more! I'm now going to go to regular updating--or at least as regular as my schedule permits. I'm going to try for weekly updates, but don't be surprised if I update every other week, instead. Thanks for your patience, everyone! Now, on with the story..._

* * *

Chapter 2

A cool, clean-smelling breeze was the first thing to greet the mercenaries as they stepped off the DropShip. Fred sighed, taking a deep breath as he adjusted his hat. "Whew, fresh air! This place isn't half-bad. Some greenery," he noted, looking past the buildings of Califar to the sparse but pleasant forest outside the city, "and a _lot_ of water. No wonder the Mariks keep hitting this place."

To Randi, standing here on this planet seemed almost unreal. They hadn't been aboard the DropShip more than a few hours by the time the JumpShip it docked to slipped out of the Solaris system and some tens of light years away to Hyde. It was as if the whole thing were just a slight bit too good to be true. She was sure that any minute she would wake up on the ship and staring her in the face would be the red numbers of her alarm clock to inform her what ungodly hour it was. Still, everything seemed fact enough, no matter how oddly short the trip had been.

Randi trotted after Fred, and was surprised at first when her legs propelled her a bit farther than she intended. Then she remembered that Hyde was a smallish world, and its gravity was therefore lower than what she had become accustomed to on Solaris VII. "Have you been here before?" she asked Fred as she followed him down the ramp at a lighter pace.

"Nope, never," he replied. "But Zettle Metals—heh, that rhymes—is paying us pretty well to babysit one of their foundries. So, I'm gonna go pay them a visit, and see about getting our 'Mechs transported to the foundry area. They wouldn't tell me which of the three foundries they want us defending, earlier."

"Security reasons?"

Fred shook his head. "I think they just didn't know where they'd need us. Still, I'm glad they want us here on Hyde, instead of the hellhole that is Rahne. Anyway, I'm gonna go see about the paperwork and other rigmarole."

"Fernando Acosta?" asked a russet-haired man as he approached the two MechWarriors.

Hearing his name, Fred turned and nodded, having failed to notice the man walking up from a sleek, black hovercar. He hooked his thumbs into his pockets casually. "And you are...?"

Randi remained quiet and took note that her employer seemed unconcerned with the stranger. The business clothes the man wore suggested that he was he was probably not looking to pick a fight. She was still wary, though, and hung back as the man approached.

"Parr Fischer. I'm with Zettle Metals Incorporated." He extended his hand politely. "I am here to brief you on your unit's assignment, as well as cover transportation concerns, expenses, and equipment."

"Oh, good," Fred chimed. "The rigmarole is here!" He either ignored or merely failed to notice Fischer's outstretched hand.

Fischer seemed a little unsure about the mercenary's last comment, but dropped his hand to his side and proceeded. "Well, if you'll follow me to the car," he said motioning back to his hovercar, "we can discuss matters during the trip."

Fred followed after the man and nodded for Randi to follow. As the trio approached Fischer's vehicle, however, Randi slowed a little. Before her superior could speak to her, however, she trotted up to Fischer's side.

"Your ID..."

"Excuse me?" asked Fischer, looking a bit confused.

"You never showed us any identification," Randi said, now standing between him and the hovercar.

"I left it in my briefcase, but I can assure you—" The man threw his hands up and nearly bit his own tongue as Randi's hand shot down to her sidearm. "I-I have a business card with me! Is t-that okay?" He slowly, nervously reached into his vest pocket and handed the card to her.

Before Randi could finish inspecting the item, however, Fred walked up and plucked it out of her hands. "You know, all this paperwork would probably be a real bore for you. Why don't you go do some sight-seeing? Maybe you can pick up some lunch for us."

She felt her cheeks turn faintly warm as she realized that she had been improperly brusque. "Yes...sir." Immediately, Fischer scuttled away from Randi and back towards the car.

Just as she began to turn away, Fred caught her arm lightly. "Hey, ya did good," he said, keeping his voice too low for Fischer to hear. "Really, I should've asked him about that, first thing. Just try to be a bit more...subtle, next time."

Randi wandered off into downtown Califar as her commander headed with Fischer towards the Zettle offices. The city lay along a lake—just about everything on Hyde was near one of the thousands of lakes—and it seemed that a strip of restaurants had monopolized the land nearest to the shore. The location was probably chosen for ambiance, or whatever silly thing compelled Spheroids to build their structures so close to bodies of water. She perused the eateries for something that would make suitable carry-out, passing several stands offering fish, and another wherein some manner of dead, skinned animal hung in the window, apparently prepared for a meal.

Walking along the street, it suddenly occurred to her that she had not for a moment felt "watched", as she had on Solaris. The biggest problem facing her now was getting used to being Randi _Greene_, and not Randi Wolf. Even during her time with the Scimitars, she had never completely relinquished her Clan identity. It was slowly getting easier to let go of that, though. Fred's acceptance of her in spite her past certainly made things a lot better. Granted, scaring the Zettle liaison was certainly a _faux pas_, she nonetheless felt that her overall record on social grace was improving.

_'Maybe next time I should say 'please'?'_ she pondered.

* * *

"Well, I have good news and bad news," said Fred as he sat down at the park table across from Randi, having finished his discussion with Zettle.

"Can I ignore the bad news?" she asked, using her hunting knife to cut into the flesh-colored, bean-shaped object on the plate in front of her. She handed her partner a paper plate with a slice of the meaty thing and a bread roll on it. "I really do not want bad news while I eat, because I am not entirely sure what this is." She cut a piece for herself and looked down at it, a little unsure.

At this, Fred stopped and gave her a curious look. "You bought it, and you don't even know what it is?"

"The man in the shop said it was _saumagen_. He also said it was their 'specialty'," she replied. "Specialty is the same thing as delicious. Right?"

"Sure... Let's go with that. But to get back on topic, here's the good news: we are going to move out to the southern foundry, and patrol there. Zettle will pay for the skiff fare and repairs on our 'Mechs. It's a fairly empty area, too, from what they told me, with a lot of low, flat land. There is some forest around, but for the most part, we will have easy visuals on anyone approaching by land. Oh, and we leave at 16:20 hours."

Randi eyed the curious slice of meat-product on her plate, then suddenly stabbed into it with her fork and took a bite. "Hmm..." she mused. "It _is_ pretty tasty. Alright. I can hear the bad news now."

"I see..." Fred muttered, taking a sample nibble of the bread. "You know this place is covered in small lakes, right? It turns out that some of the lakes surrounding the foundry are deep enough to conceal BattleMechs, and cool enough to mask the nominal heat signatures pretty well. There's a good bit of marsh and swamp out there, too. So our job is to watchdog the place, and possibly do a little bandit-hunting if any unwanted visitors start snooping around. If there's a full-on raid and things get too hot, we send out a code for assistance, and Zettle will move some of the other foundries' defenders to reinforce us."

"How far away are the other foundries?" Randi asked as Fred took a cautious bite of the _saumagen_ on his plate.

"Mmm. This is good," he said with an appreciative nod. "Now, lemme think... The nearest foundry is about 250 klicks northeast of us. A _Savannah Master_ could probably make the trip in a little more than an hour. It would take me about twice as long to make the trip in my _Hellhound_."

"If any serious force attacked, the foundry would probably be leveled by the time aid arrived," Randi noted. "They must have a lot of confidence in us to be comfortable leaving just two BattleMechs to guard that location," Randi said. "I wonder why they hired us, and not a larger company."

"The Clan tech could have something to do with it. I mean, three out of our four 'Mechs _are_ Clan-made. Granted, the _Hellhound_ is a non-Omni, secondliner... But you have to understand that when you can put down a _Mad Cat_ on your force roster, your unit suddenly looks pret-ty good to anyone wanting to hire," Fred said as he took another bite of his meal.

Randi looked out at the lakes around them and nodded a bit. "Yes, but that just shows that a unit has good equipment."

"Ah, you're looking at it the wrong way. Clan tech is still uncommon in the InnerSphere, and it's still got a sort of mystique to it. Everyone remembers how the invaders just rolled over the Houses during the first waves, and no one could beat them. Sure, there were a lot of factors involved in that," he continued, "but there's an almost superstitious perception left. Don't worry about that, though. It just means that our equipment rating balances out our company size."

"I think I understand that," said Randi. She started eating. "Hm, there has to be some kind of supply line for the foundries. Is it not defended?"

"I think Zettle just uses skiffs for transport. Ground vehicles would probably take too much time weaving around the lakes. There is a flight of _Hawk Moth_ choppers and a pair of _MechBuster_ conventional fighters stationed on an airfield just two klicks outside the foundry area, though. The _Hawk Moths_ have a pretty decent long-range capability and speed, and the _Busters_ each carry an AC/20." Fred withdrew a piece of paper from the pocket on the inside of his jacket and unfolded it on the table, revealing it to be a map. "Here," he said, assailing the map with a thick, black marker. He turned the map around once he was finished and slid it across the table towards his employee.

"Ah," was about all that Randi could say for a moment, as she reviewed the scrawling but somehow very effective illustrations decorating the map. Cartography was apparently not one of Fred's giftings, but the map did help to give her a better idea of the lay of the land around the foundry. Before she could ask him, she noted that he had already outlined a patrol route on the grid.

"Are there any allied hovercraft in the area?"

"I already requisitioned some for assistance. I'm not sure what we'll get, but here's hoping they'll send in a couple."

Randi nodded and went back to studying the map. She took careful note of the lakes Fred had marked as most suited for 'Mechs to traverse the bottom. "I imagine we can expect enemy hovers if we are attacked, yes?"

"It's a good bet."

"Have any more good news you left out?" she asked with a sigh.

Fred chuckled. "Well, first of all, we're not on Solaris or Rahne. Secondly, three of our 'Mechs have jumpjets, and all of them are better armed than the average bandit that might be lurking around."

"It is not bandits that I worry about. I am far more concerned about opposing merc units and Marik raiders."

"I can't account for other mercs, but the Mariks would probably go for Hyde's water purification plant first."

"And once they gained control of that, they would come for the foundries."

"We're just going to have to prepare for the worst the best that we can, and hope it doesn't come to that. I appreciate the diligence, but you're sounding sort of pessimistic, now, Randi."

She gave a nod of acknowledgement and continued eating. It was a little hard to be optimistic sometimes. At least when she belonged to the Wolves, she had the security of Zellbriegen during inter-Clan battles. As much as the Falcons or Horses or Bears may have hated the Wolves, they were true to Zellbriegen and fought with honor. InnerSphere forces never gave their numbers or intentions, and relied heavily on deception and ambush where they could. The Clans, of course, employed good military tactics; but these were more transparent tactics which relied on strength, speed, and wit rather than merely ambushing one's opponent.

A bright chiming chorus of bells caught the mercenaries' attention as they ate, and the two looked up to notice a post some meters away that bore a large, four-sided mechanical clock face atop it. Both hands of the twelve-hour clock had struck four, leaving them twenty minutes to get to the the skiff and load their things. Randi stared for a moment at the clock, wondering about their predicament.

"Hey, don't worry," Fred said with a half-smile. "The bandits are probably more frightened of us than we are of them, y'know?" He chuckled and leaned back from the table a little, rolling his shoulders to loosen his muscles. "So, try to look scary or something. Eh...that reminds me. I've gotta get my _Hellhound_ repainted. The scheme Prewitt gave it is just _so_ unmanly—not scary at all."

"The light blue? I sort of like the light blue."

"That's not light blue, Randi, that's _baby blue_," Fred replied as he stood. "And it's unmanly."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Randi looked out the window of the skiff intently as clouds, trees, and lake after lake, after lake all zoomed past. The flight hit a little turbulence every so often, but by and large, it was comfortable and quiet. She looked back over her shoulder quickly to see that Fred was still asleep in the seat beside her with an unfolded newspaper over his face. Decaffeinated coffee certainly did not have a placebo effect on him.

She hummed a little to herself, murmuring some old tune whose lyrics were long gone from her memory, and returned to watching the land-and-waterscape of Hyde rush past beneath her. They were fast approaching a patch of forest that spanned between a pair of lakes. Some birds scattered from the mixed evergreen and deciduous trees as the skiff approached, and took off over one of the lakes. Randi looked after them for a moment, until movement along the shoreline caught her eye. Glancing back to it, she thought that the thing was a biped. Before she could make any further determination, however, it slipped into the lake and was gone from sight.

Shortly, the skiff began to slow and finally came to a stop, hovering midair over a helipad. It descended smoothly, though the last few centimeters were somewhat jarring. The jostling of the ship roused Fred from his nap. He yawned a little and set the newspaper he had been using for a sun cover aside.

"Hey, what's goin' on?" he asked, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

Randi smirked and bit her lip, trying not to laugh. The newspaper ink had rubbed off into a greyish-black smear on Fred's forehead. "You, uh..." she said, still attempting a straight face, "There's some, er, ink on your face."

Fred turned and pawed at his face, trying to rub off the pigment. "So, I guess we're at the foundry, right?"

"Yeah." Randi glanced back out the window to the lake where she had spotted the bipedal thing. _'Probably just someone going for a swim,'_ she told herself, _'or an animal.'_

Before she could ponder the subject further, the familiar creaking groan of DropShip bay doors caught her attention. She turned and smiled to see all four of the 'Mechs sitting in the bay, like sleeping golems.

"How do you feel about taking the _Shadow Cat_ for a turn, Randi?" Fred asked her. "Until your _Mad Cat_ is out of the shop again, anyway."

"Oh..." She looked up at her all-black heavy OmniMech and sighed a little. It was a little frustrating to see the 'Mech in disrepair yet again. After all those years she had been unable to get it serviced, it was torn up again and she had not the funds to repair it a second time while they were on Solaris. Randi snapped herself out of such discouraging thoughts and gave Fred a cheerful nod. "Yeah. That will be fine." _'How childish of me to sulk about that,'_ she thought, recalling that the _Mad Cat_ had been her only means to help Fred. _'No machine is more important than my friend.'_

He looked back at her and smiled. "Hey, how about I take the first patrol, and you can take your 'Mech to the repair bay?"

"Eh, no. No, I will go ahead and patrol first," she replied, trotting off towards the DropShip. "You can go ahead and unpack."

Without further conversation, she jogged across the asphalt to the bay. The _Shadow Cat_ was still sporting the mottled ash-on-burnt-sienna that it retained from its use in the bloodpits, and despite a few nicks and scratches, was in very good condition after Ned and Harrison's repairs to it. The speed of the machine would definitely be something for her to get used to, as well as the tonnage. She had been assigned to an _Ice Ferret_ for a short time after graduating from her sibko, but after that, the Clan had allotted her larger machines like _Nyx_.

She grabbed a cooling vest from a nearby shelf and quickly climbed up the ladder to the 45-tonner's cockpit. It took her a few moments to adjust to the interior of the 'Mech. Though the outside was pure blooded OmniMech, the interior was somewhat on the hackish side, and clearly InnerSphere work. Most of the components looked to be non-original, and the HUD displayed upon starting the 'Mech was distinctly Spheroid. The console had a few "scars" left from an arc-welding job, which was probably made to repair the damage Fred caused in hacking it open to steal the 'Mech from Prewitt. All-in-all, the machine certainly had personality.

_'Well,'_ Randi mused, _'time to see how it handles.'_

She pressed her foot down on the throttle lightly and carefully guided the _Cat_ out of the DropShip and onto the tarmac. She could see Fred loitering around the skiff, watching her as she pushed the 'Mech into a little dance to test its agility. The 'Mech had a nice turning radius of two dimes and a nickel, and fairly light feet for its 45 tons. She pranced it over to the edge of the road surface, then gave a stomp to the throttle and tapped on the jumpjets. Her familiarity with jump-capable 'Mechs made it no trouble to land this one on its feet, but the soft ground made it a bit more of challenge than usual.

Though her real proficiency lay in the heavy-class, this nimble _Shadow Cat_ was a treat to pilot. Randi twisted the _Cat's_ torso back to face Fred, and tapped on the external speaker. "I think this will be just fine," she chimed, and then took off on her patrol route.

* * *

As the hot sun dipped closer to the horizon, Akela Kerensky sat outside on a low canyon ledge, pondering his situation. A small desert insect of some sort crawled onto his boot, and he promptly kicked it away, sending the thing tumbling down over the ledge. Looking back down to the canyon floor just a few meters below, he could see his subordinates milling around the abandoned campsite.

The findings at this location, as well as reports from the locals confirmed the Wolves' assumptions: Star Commander Mai Leroux and her forces were dead. Considering that she had made no contact with the Clan in months, this was to be expected. Akela took a swig of water from his canteen and stared down at the activity below. This was a very bad situation. The loss of Leroux's unit was more of a nuisance to the Clan than anything; the loss of the 'Mechs was just slightly more annoying. In any case, the real problem was not the men or machines, but the mission.

"Any luck, Lonan?" he called down as a MechWarrior approached him.

The man craned his neck to look up at the ledge, and saluted. "Star Captain! Our search has failed to locate anything of relevance."

"I thought as much," Akela muttered, as he climbed down from the rocks. He glanced back at Leroux's camp and then to MechWarrior Lonan. "I am giving temporary command of the Star to you, until I return. Our other leads have dried up, but I can think of one more source of information..."

"Sir?"

"One way or another, I am going to retrieve what was stolen from us." At that, the Star Captain turned and walked back to the camp, swiping a pair of jeans and a plain tee-shirt to pull on over his close-fitting uniform, along with a handful of C-Bills. He walked on through the sand, continuing his musings as he made his way towards the nearby town.

It was known that a mercenary unit called the Scimitars had attacked Leroux, and there were rumors that the mercenaries had also executed both her and her entire Star. The rumors that intrigued him most, however, were those of dissent within the Scimitars. While he wanted to avoid contact with the main body of the merc unit if possible, three different individuals were said to have split from the company in recent months. One was a man named Singer who had been fired; the second was a woman called Sanders, said to be a thief. Last, and most prominent to Akela, was a MechWarrior about whom little was known. The only confirmed facts were that this ex-Scimitar was a dark-haired female, and she piloted a black _Mad Cat_.

_'Not too many _Timber Wolves_ out in these parts,'_ Akela mused, _'and Jamar _did_ visit this planet.'_ It could have been coincidence, but the Star Captain was disinclined to believe that this was chance. Even so, he did not discount any one of the three dissenters as the culprit. It was important to go about this search with an open mind, a sharp eye and a keen ear.

As the sun dipped still lower, he arrived at the edge of the town. His clothes were nondescript enough that he could hide in plain sight among the Spheroids, gaining nothing more than a curious but ultimately disinterested look from the natives. Unlike most Clansmen, Akela usually wore a fairly pleasant or at least unaggressive expression most of the time. He also made a careful effort not to imply an overly military bearing with his body language. It wasn't hard to blend in when a good majority of the people in this spaceport town were off-worlders or other transients.

Though he had expected it would be necessary to do a fair bit of digging, he was pleasantly surprised to find one piece of the puzzle staring him in the face as he approached a bar. On the wall just beside the door was tacked a reward poster with the image of a young woman of Eurasian descent. The name listed was Jen Sanders, and a rather large sum of C-Bills had been offered for her capture. The sum offered for her death was smaller, but hardly a paltry sum. Akela snatched the poster and folded it, tucking the paper into his back pocket as he walked into the bar.

"I hope you do not mind that I helped myself to the poster outside," he said to the bartender as he sat down.

The woman turned and smirked. "You've gotta be the most polite bounty hunter I've had in here for a long time. Yeah, go ahead. Ain't like there's a shortage of wanted posters for Sanders, anyway. The Scimitars practically wallpapered the town with 'em, after they took down the posters for that _Mad Cat_ pilot." She jerked a thumb to a bulletin board on the wall to her left, where several more of the said posters were tacked, obscuring most of the other postings.

"With a sum like that, I'm surprised everyone in this town is not out looking for her," Akela remarked.

"You must be new around here, hon," the bartender said with a chuckle.

He returned it with a good natured chuckle of his own and nodded. "I look that much like a tourist, do I?" he joked. "While I'm here, though, I think I'll sample the local fare. A drink. Perhaps you could surprise me with something?" The use of contractions grated in his brain, but he kept his expression even.

The bartender nodded. "One shot of 'Mech coolant, coming right up."

Upon hearing the cocktail's name, Akela decided it would be prudent to kick back the shot in one gulp. During his sibko years, he had the misfortune of sampling real 'Mech coolant when a hose ruptured right in his face. While the Clans used a non-toxic chemical, it was still an extremely unpleasant taste, and he assumed that anything named after this vile substance must be equally unpleasant. The bartender turned and set a shot glass in front of him filled with green liquid that popped and fizzed with sparkling bubbles of carbonation.

The Clansman picked up his glass and emptied it quickly. Immediately, his throat, mouth, and nose burned with a dozen tiny stars. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and blinked repeatedly as his eyes started to water.

"The tequila burn getting' to ya?" asked the woman.

"No, but the carbonation is," he replied, setting the shot glass back on the bar. Now that the sparks on his tongue had died off, he could taste a peculiar citrus sort of flavor and the alcohol. "Certainly an...interesting drink," he said. "Earlier you indicated that no one is looking for Jen Sanders. Why, might I ask, is that?"

"Simple," she replied. "Sanders skipped out. Everyone was so busy chasing that black _Mad Cat_, that by the time the Scimitars changed their minds and set a bounty for Sanders, she'd already left. It's a pretty sure bet that she headed for Solaris."

"It would cost more to get there and back than the reward is worth," Akela mused. "I'm curious, though, why they switched the bounty."

The bartender shrugged. "Couldn't tell ya. Plenty of people are still gunning for the _Cat_ pilot, if she ever shows up again. The crazy chick shot up a local gang before taking off with some lone merc. And during the firefight, a DropShip came online and pummeled the gang leader with its guns."

_'Chaos, confusion, destruction—this has _her_ fingerprints all over it,'_ he thought with a mental laugh. His sibkin always had been a troublemaker. He traced his finger around the rim of the shot glass in front of him and smiled a little. "That is most interesting."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Well?" snapped the curt female voice. "Do you have something for me or not, Star Captain?"

"Aff, Star Colonel," Akela replied calmly, disregarding her demanding tone. He leaned back in his chair, determined to relax in spite of his commander, and pulled off his boots. "Leroux and her Star are dead. The camp was ransacked—probably by those who slew her."

"You have punished the freebirths who did it, _quiaff?_"

"Neg. They are gone."

"Stravag!" the woman cursed, though not particularly at him. "You have at least recovered the schematics?"

"Neg. They are gone, also."

A long silence followed this, which was a truer indication of rage than the earlier epithet. "If you have not the heads of our enemies, and you have not the schematics, then what _do_ you have? Akela, I warn you..."

He took a sip from his canteen and yawned a little, though not so loud that she could hear him over the radio. "Information. So far as I have ascertained, it is probably on Solaris VII."

"That filthy gaming world? Kerensky's ghost, we will never get it back now!"

"Please, Star Colonel..." he said with a sigh. "Did I not tell you that I would retrieve it? I am good to my word."

"For your own sake, that had better be more than a promise—it had better be _fact!_"

"It is, ovkhan, I assure you. You will have your prize sooner than you think. I will depart tomorrow."

* * *

Randi craned her neck a bit and looked through the plexiglass cockpit of the _Shadow Cat_ to the darkened sky above. Out to the side, she could see the sun just beginning to creep up over the edge of Hyde's horizon line, casting eerie three-dimensional shadows through a thick screen of mist that clung about the sparse trees. Wherever she left tracks in the ground, mist pooled down into them like some kind of well.

There was something a little strange about this forest, she thought. Perhaps it was those strangely projected shadows, so uncommon to the human perception. The stillness was strange, too. Here and there, a few birds chirruped a few notes to welcome morning, but none of them really sang. None of them were visible, and none of them flew except for the times when she had to squeeze the _Cat_ through the trees, shouldering past the moss-and-lichen-covered trunks and drove a few from cover. As a matter of fact, she had seen very few animals in this forest. They were perhaps hiding, frightened off by the quick pounding of the OmniMech's feet in the soft, soggy earth.

She looked back to her HUD to check the time and her nav points again. Nav Alpha was at the foundry center, and then going eastward, Beta and Gamma were cleared. Now she had only nav Delta and then Epsilon left. Once she arrived at Epsilon, she could give Fred a wake-up call. He would then start up his _Hellhound_ and leave for nav Beta before she arrived back.

This process allowed them to have one 'Mech on patrol at all times, even during a changing-of-the-guard. When Fred said he wanted a continuous patrol, he really meant it, too. They alternated every three hours during the evening and night; when daylight was strongest, a pair of Zettle's _Hawk Moths_ took over. Despite the length of their shifts, it hardly took that long to complete the pentangle route that Fred had established. A lot of time was taken with careful examination of the forest and lakes where the nav points lay—all areas Fred had determined could be suitable for an enemy unit to use as a hiding spot. Both MechWarriors made observation of the stretches in between, as well, and made their own meandering, searching paths between nav points. The ground showed her where the _Hellhound_ had been previously sticking its proverbial BAP-equipped nose.

Even with taking her time to search, however, Randi had made a good two trips through the route for every hour she spent in the field. It was tiring to be sure, but it was necessary. The contract wasn't big, but every contract done well would better their unit's rating—not to mention the potential monetary bonuses.

She sighed and bit the fingertip of one of her gloves, pulling it off of her hand with her teeth. Easing up off the throttle a little, she rubbed her eyes with her gloveless hand to wipe away the sleep. She had tried to snatch some rest each time her shift ended, but it was difficult to sleep in such a short period of time.

_'Maybe I should not head back just yet. I am tired, but so is Fred,'_ she thought. _'And I am a trueborn—he needs to sleep more than I do.' _Having decided this, she blinked her eyes a few times, trying to convince them to stay open a bit longer. There was no use in that, though. _'No, I have to stay awake for awhile more,'_ she thought.

"Nav Point Delta: _reached_," said the computer suddenly. She startled a bit, hearing the Davion-accented male voice and reminded herself it was the 'Mech and not some stranger. The computers of all the 'Mechs she had piloted before had traditionally female voices—meant to sound soothing, but most often merely annoying. The cadence was machine enough, having a very preprogrammed quality to it, but the simple fact it was male tended to throw her off into thinking for a moment that a person was speaking to her.

_'I really am tired. That thing scared me half out of my wits, hearing it so close all of a sudden.'_

Slowing to a stop, she took the joystick and eased it back and forth, yawing the _Shadow Cat's_ torso for a look at her surroundings. There was nothing in the open plain ahead but more mist hanging above the ground. Randi trotted ahead, looking around. After a few moments' careful searching, she decided to backtrack to Delta, where one of the lakes lay. A little water on her face might wake her up alright, without keeping her up for hours like a shot of espresso was likely to do.

Fog still hung thick in the atmosphere as the sun was climbing ever higher, and it was thickest over the lake. As she neared the sand-and-gravel shoreline, she saw that there seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary. There was no movement but a few ripples caused as fish touched the surface of the water. There were no tracks but a few animal prints, all of which were unambiguously quadrupedal.

The water was a perfect mirror of black-blue, and the mist above it like a woolen shroud. The Clanner in her was suspicious of any water that was not clear to the bottom and any weather that was not likewise high-visibility. At the same time, she remembered that swimmer she had seen. Getting some of the cool lake water on her skin might give her a good jolt to stay awake a little longer.

Resuming the creeping motion, she walked the Shadow Cat out into the water slowly. She salved her caution with the reasoning that she should thoroughly _inspect_ the lake, and not just stare at it for a bit. Once the water level was just below the cockpit, she came to a full stop and opened the hatch. Quickly, carefully, she leaned her arm out and swiped her canteen through the water, then dumped that back on her face.

Randi promptly grit her teeth, suppressing an involuntary shriek as the water—which was far more icy than she guessed—ran down her face and subsequently down her chest and arms. "Cold, cold, cold!" she hissed, rubbing her arms. "Well, _that_ woke me up, alright," she muttered to aloud, making a mental note to be more careful what she asked for in the future. She closed the hatch, then trotted back onto the shore carefully.

While the patrol route called for her to proceed through the forest a little north of the lake, she decided to cut around it, making a straight run to nav Epsilon. There was no use in digging a trench through that forest with her 'Mech's feet. As she turned the torso of her _Shadow Cat_, she noticed some pockets of mist on the ground. The pits were an unnatural, elongated shape, and rather deep.

"Freebirth!" Randi cursed aloud. It was a lone BattleMech. The intruder must have observed the patrol for some time and chosen this day, when the fog was thick and the mercenaries were tiring, to slip in through their perimeter. She slapped the comm and barked, "Black Wolf to Lead! An unidentified 'Mech has breached the perimeter! Repeat, an unidentified 'Mech has breached the perimeter of the foundry. No visual or radar contact, currently."

"Copy that; moving to assist. Keep 'em busy," came Fred's swift and surprisingly awake reply. Randi had actually expected him to be asleep still, or at least very groggy. "What's your vector?" he asked.

"Moving west from nav Gamma," she replied to him in turn, and began to follow the tracks carefully. "Can you contact the airfield and get a VTOL in the sky for us?"

"Already on it. Oh, and when you catch up to our friend, try not to kill 'em, okay? I'd like to have a little chat."

"Roger that. Will disable intruder if possible. Out."As she followed the behemoth footprints, her radar suddenly went hot. A single red dot appeared some 250 meters northwest of her position. Randi hit the throttle and burst out of the trees into the wide plain that separated the forest and the foundry on one side. She pitched her 'Mech's left arm upwards and fired off her ER medium laser into the sky, and then shut off her ECM suite. Right now, she wanted to be highly visible.

"Enemy detected," the computerized stranger informed her again.

Upon targeting the 'Mech, she saw that it was a _MON-76 Mongoose_, the most recent make of that chassis. Before she could get a good fix on the light 'Mech, however, it disappeared from her radar again. She gave a snort of frustration and followed it cautiously. As far as she could tell, this 25-tonner was the only enemy 'Mech present, but that was nothing to assume. At the very least, she had to be careful of letting it slip by her. The light-class _Mongoose_ was apparently running passive sensors. Though she had never seen this model before, Randi could bet that it probably had an ECM suite, as well.

As she trotted forward slowly through the mist, another one of those weird, three-dimensional shadows caught her eye to the right. Quickly, Randi spun the _Cat's_ torso around and stabbed into the mist with both of her lasers. One missed, and one barely caught the edge of something, sending a bright flash of yellow up to illuminate the mists.

The _Mongoose_ returned fire with its medium pulse lasers. Its targeting was somewhat off as well, but still rather accurate in spite of the fog. Three sprays of pulsed red light danced across the _Shadow Cat's_ torso wildly, heating the armor to glowing, soft spots of orange. The ECM was giving her opponent an edge by interfering with the _Cat's_ radar and electronics.

_'Fine,'_ Randi thought to herself. _'If that is how they want to play this...'_

She switched on her OmniMech's ECM and tapped on the MASC. The myomer accelerator signal circuitry gave her already swift 'Mech a sprinting boost that allowed her to keep up with smaller, normally faster 'Mechs. In just seconds, she would be behind the _Mongoose_ and in a perfect position to strike.

As predicted, she was soon able to see its vague, dim outline through the fog. Randi lined up the crosshairs over the light 'Mech, switching to her Artemis IV-equipped missiles. The targeting reticule began to turn lazily, with an outline of red, as she lowered it over the _Mongoose's_ silhouette. It was only a partial lock, but that would have to be sufficient. She squeezed the trigger, launching one salvo through the fog, and then bolted off on her 'Mech's normal throttle speed.

Strafing around, she could see the flash-bang-pop of the LRMs colliding with the light 'Mech. It managed to evade some of them, but the lightly-armored scout would not be able to suffer even a couple more hits like that. Intending to capitalize on her first strike, Randi tried again to get a bead on the _Mongoose_. It never remained still. However, the fog was lifting and the enemy was now more visible. As the scout ran, it fired in return, pitting her right torso with burn marks from its medium pulse lasers. She stabbed back at it with her ER mediums, and continued to give chase while trying simultaneously to drive it away from the foundry.

Before she could switch back to her LRMs, the Mongoose's left arm and most of its left torso exploded in a rain of shrapnel. A loud boom followed slightly after the initial noise of the impact, and the very stunned _Mongoose_ reeled around, disoriented, and quickly made its way back towards the forest. There was another apparently spontaneous explosion amidst the grove, as a gauss slug burst into the trunk of a tree near the enemy 'Mech's path.

Randi glanced down at her radar and noted the friendly unit moving up on her right flank—Fred piloting his _Hellhound_. "The _Mongoose_ seems to be retreating back the way it came."

"Copy that. Speed?"

"It looks like it is moving at about...130 km/h. No," Randi corrected herself, "wait—135, 140."

"Damn. It's got MASC."

"What is the ETA of our friends at the airfield?"

"Too long." The _Hellhound_ fell in alongside her.

"Do you wish to pursue? The ground is soft, so I can track it."

"I'm not chasing that thing off the base. No way," Fred replied quickly. "I hate letting it go, but we can't afford to stray off from the foundry. I'm sure if we do, we'll either get caught in a horrible ambush or the foundry will be destroyed while we're out on our stroll. Or both. Both might happen at once."

Randi heaved a sigh of frustration, looking back into the forest where the _Mongoose_ had burst through the trees. "Well, if you do not want to chase it, then what do you want to do?" she asked a little sourly. The need for sleep was catching up to her.

"Call for backup. That was either a forward scout, a probe for our defenses, or a minimum-effort raid. Now that they know how many of us are guarding this place and what our usual patrol pattern is, you can bet they'll be back for another go. And they'll bring more people or more weapons."

"Or both might happen at once..." said Randi.

Fred pitched the torso of his _Hellhound_ downwards to look at the shrapnel littering the ground. "Well, at least we know who we're dealing with," he said. "That 'Mech was _purple_."

* * *

_Another week, another chapter! Thanks for keeping up with it, everyone. I appreciate all the reviews, and I'm doing my best to keep the updates going._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"M-Mariks?! Mr. Acosta, please, do not joke with me."

"Wish I was," Fred replied, as he stood in front of the viewscreen. "You want proof...?"

Fischer wiped his hand across his forehead nervously and nodded. At this, Randi stood up from her seat and grabbed a hold of the rolling table next to her. Fred took the other side and, with some effort, they wheeled it in front of the viewscreen. Fischer went even more pale than he already was as his eyes traveled over the chunk of purple-painted armor and came to rest on the violet Marik eagle spray painted onto what had been a portion of the _Mongoose's_ arm.

He licked his dry lips and cleared his throat, adjusting his tie. "Very well... I-I'll have two 'Mechs from the eastern foundry move to your location for assistance. It is a more defensible location, so they won't miss the firepower. I'll have them stay with you until the Mariks have been neutralized or driven off."

"What are their colors and insignia?" Randi said, before Fischer could continue.

"They'll need a passcode, too," said Fred. "'Cause if I know my partner like I think I do, she's gonna shoot a nice hole in any approaching 'Mech she doesn't recognize. And I'm not gonna stop her."

The business man looked somewhat startled at that, but nodded. "The mercenaries patrolling the eastern foundry are the Spitfires; their 'Mechs are painted crimson with gold accents."

Fred turned to Randi and muttered. "Hear that? They're all _crimson_. Must be too classy for plain ol' red..."

She smirked a little, trying not to chuckle in front of Fischer.

Fischer, again put off-guard by the mercenaries, adjusted his tie again and coughed. "I'll, uh, contact the Spitfires right away. They should arrive later today. Passcode is _tinderbox_."

* * *

"So, you think these other mercenaries will help us?" Randi asked as she sat down in the grass next to Fred. The sun was setting now, turning the blue-green grass an orangey-red, and it would soon be time for them to begin their patrol again. It had been about several hours now since they spoke with Fischer, and luckily, things had been quiet. The two mercs were beginning to wonder when their backup would arrive, however.

"Meh, who knows. Honestly, my MO—and it's worked so far—is to assume that anyone helping you is a bloody idiot who is just going to screw the whole thing up."

"Anyone, huh?"

"Until proven otherwise, of course."

She nodded a little and looked out at the hole Fred's light gauss had ripped through the trees across the field. There were still large chunks of wood and larger chunks of armor strewn across the field where he had wounded the _Mongoose_. Though they had not caught the intruder this time, Randi was merely thankful that she had spotted it. If she had not turned back towards the lake, it might well have slipped past and leveled the foundry.

Both she and Fred were firmly convinced that this attack would not be the last. The raiders would be back, and they would return with more firepower. Even if the Spitfires proved to be incompetent, the additional numbers might deter further adventurism on the part of these bandits. Of course, they had no idea just what forces their enemies had, or where they were. A search-and-destroy mission was out of the question, as there was simply too much ground to cover and too few defenders to maintain the perimeter.

Randi turned, about to speak, when Fred began to whistle a little tune and began unlacing his boots. He kicked them off casually and laid back in the grass, closing his eyes as he continued whistling his song.

"What...song is that?" asked Randi looking down at him.

Fred cracked open one eye and grinned, folding his hands behind his head. "Well, the sky is blue and me mate's blue, too. And that green machine ain't half as mean as Charlie. The red bogie's dead, shot blam! in the head, and I'm down to half a mag. The gun smoke's black—boys, they're comin' back. Code orange; y'know we're screwed."

Randi furrowed her brows, and her lips curled down into a frown. "You... think we're going to lose?"

"Nah. Just...felt like singin' that. ...If you wanna call it singing," he said with a chuckle. "It's a little campfire number from when I was a Defender in the Outworlds. Say, you got any good songs? Maybe a round? Haven't sung a good round in ages."

"We—er, the Clans, eh, don't... sing,"Randi said. She felt her cheeks warm a little. "I don't sing."

He gave a nod and closed his eyes again, then reached up and took her arm, pulling her down to the grass next to him. "Relax a little. There's still half an hour before we patrol."

She remained still in the grass and looked up at the sky. Out to her 10 o'clock, she could see a black spot moving through the sky, and shortly thereafter, she could hear the loud pulsing drum of the approaching _Hawk Moth's_ rotors.

"Huh. Looks like our break got cut short," Randi said, watching the gunship's approach. As the VTOL neared, now a distinctly shaped vehicle rather than a dark silhouette, she could feel a rumble in the ground beneath her. "And we have company."

"About time they got here," Fred muttered.

"Well," said Randi as she stood up, "I had better go warm up the Shadow Cat and start patrol."

"Good idea. I'm gonna have a talk with the Spitfires and see if they wanna run two-man—er, uh, two-person teams, or if they wanna stick to solo runs."

"Why do you need their opinion?" she asked over the increasingly loud pounding. "You are the one in charge of defense at this foundry."

Fred looked up at her and chuckled. "Very true. But, you see, I have a very logical method I plan to use. If they don't agree, and don't want to cooperate, then that just proves they don't have the sense to be much help. Hmph, how much you wanna bet they sent us a couple of _Urban_—"

With a loud, completely ungraceful crash, a UM-R60 _Urbanmech_ burst through the trees, leaving a tremendous gap where forest once stood.

"Oh, Kerensky, _no_..." Randi moaned. "You just had to say that, Fred."

He sat up and stared at the BattleMech, looking somewhat befuddled as he watched the crimson colored machine approach. Behind the _Urbanmech_ trotted a weirdly humanoid but ponderously slow _Wyvern_, sporting the same crimson paint.

"You gotta be kiddin' me..." Fred muttered. "They sent us _city_ fighters? Okay, the verdict is in: they're gonna be _useless_."

His radio crackled with a little static, followed by a female voice. "Moth 3 to VG Alpha. Code _tinderbox_ confirmed. This is your backup, over."

"Copy that, Moth 3. That's what I was afraid of, over," he replied with a sigh.

"Sir?"

"Nothing. You can cease your patrol and return to base, Moth 3. Black Wolf is taking over for you."

"Copy. Moth 3, over and out."

Randi trotted off to the hangar while Fred stood in front of the two Spitfire 'Mechs. Even with her back turned to him, she knew he was rolling his eyes. _'I guess Fred and I will just have to make up for the slow speed of the Spitfires,'_ she thought, as she walked up to the ladder of the _Shadow Cat_. She could see that Fred did have a point about a unit's equipment rating. Pilot skill was very important, but if the enemy could run circles around your 'Mech it made it that much harder to win.

She climbed up to the cockpit of the OmniMech and ran through the usual start up routine as if it were automatic. This time, she did not jump when the computer's male voice rolled off the systems status.

A sharp beep interrupted its normal protocol. "Enemy detected," it said. Her radar indicated two hostiles just three hundred meters ahead of her.

Of course those two signatures belonged to the Spitfires. Since she had not yet keyed them into her IFF as friendly units, they were still displayed as enemies. She began to tap in the correction on the _Cat's_ mishmash of a console, when a shrill ringing came from the speakers.

Immediately, she darted forward, out of the hangar and around the side of another building to evade the missile lock. This proved enough to break the missile lock. "Alpha!" she barked, peering around quickly and examining her radar. There were no hostile units that she could see. "Something just put a missile lock on me! Any visual on a hostile? It could be that _Mongoose_, again."

"Stand down, Black Wolf," Fred replied. "Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee weren't watching their radar, and mistook you for a hostile."

"You're right, they are useless," Randi grumbled, not caring if the Spitfires heard. She moved the _Shadow Cat_ out from behind the building and onto the field. She stopped a few dozen meters behind Fred and twisted her torso back and forth a little, examining their "backup."

She found the paint scheme they used to be ridiculous, as well as the 'Mechs themselves. In her time as a Clan Warrior, she had used only the tan-and-white scheme of her Galaxy, environment-appropriate camouflage, or flat colors such as Wolf grey and black. Parade schemes were one thing, but she could not imagine charging out onto a battlefield with bright paint. Even the _Shadow Cat_ was a light color, making it difficult to see at a distance. The Spitfires' machines could probably be seen for a good several miles.

"Okay," said Fred over the common channel. "You two are here under _my_ command. So, let me tell you how it's gonna be..."

After five days, and much protesting from the Spitfire MechWarriors—Duerr and Lowell—the patrol order finally became the accepted ritual. Fred's structuring of the patrols was a very orderly one, just as he had promised. During the day, the VTOLs still patrolled. At night, the MechWarriors continued to take three-hour shifts, but now they did so two at a time.

Fred had divided up the map, changed some of the nav points, and expanded the perimeter to account for the additional personnel. Each of the 'Mechs on patrol scouted half of the nav points for about an hour, and then they switched sides. The source of the Spitfires' protests was not that the patrol route had changed, or that they got very little sleep, but that Fred insisted on splitting them up. When questioned on this, he merely pointed out to the two that it was most prudent to pair each of the slow 'Mechs with a fast 'Mech to ensure the base was well patrolled. Of course, Randi knew the other reason why he did this, the primary reason.

Fred did not trust the outsiders. As he stated upon their arrival, he really considered them useless aside from a show of force. The painfully slow speed and limited combat capabilities of their 'Mechs, in addition to the tinge of inexperience the pilots showed, were all reason not to place much faith in them. However green they might be to combat, the Lowell and Duerr caught on immediately that Fred had little confidence in them. The two viewed this as a grave insult, and so they had for several days been attempting to lodge a complaint with Mr. Fischer. The Zettle liaison was extremely hesitant to acquiesce to this, however. Perhaps he held more confidence in Fred than he did in the Spitfire pilots, or perhaps there was an ungodly amount of paperwork entailed in taking their complaints into account. Of course, his choice to leave all command decisions to Fred may have been partly influenced by seeing Randi toying with her knife every time he spoke with the mercenaries on the viewscreen.

Thinking over this, Randi lay in her bunk, turning the knife around in the little stream of light that poured through the blinds from outside. It was hard to get to sleep, and harder still to wake up. What they really needed to do, she thought, was to run a search-and-destroy mission, and root out the bandits rather than waiting for them to strike again. Of course, that was not a possibility with only two less-than-competent city-brawlers to babysit the foundry.

She sighed, slipping the knife under her pillow, where she always kept it while she slept, and rolled over on her side. Her eyes fluttered closed tiredly, and as she tried to open them, she thought she head something like a crackle of static. Slowly, she opened her eyes and was surprised to see that what she thought was a blink had been a rather sound nap of over an hour. It still was not time for her to go back on patrol, and so she shifted a little to get comfortable once more and return to sleep.

The crackle of static interrupted that once more, followed by a very angry male voice. "Dangit, Lowell, get up here!" snapped Fred, his voice unmistakable. "I've got one Marik _Assassin_ inbound, heading east towards the foundry. Repeat: hostile Marik _Assassin_. All units, respond!"

* * *

Notes: _Well, I'm a day later than I intended, but I've still managed to make my once a week update with the help of Hellcat. And you thought I'd forgotten about this week's chapter. Ha!  
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_Rogue Baron, Mosin, 4477 I really appreciate the steady reviews. I love getting feedback from you guys and all my readers._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Fred!" Randi gasped, as the radio snapped her into consciousness. She bolted upright and over to the side of the bed, only to fall on her face. The MechWarrior muttered a few curses as she turned back around and untangled the bedsheets from around her legs. Once disentangled, she quickly scrambled from the floor to her feet and pulled on her boots and her cooling vest. Before running out the door, she grabbed the radio and her knife, but wasted no time to change from the shorts and cut-off tank in which she had slept.

She was surprised to see that the _Wyvern_ was still in the hangar, as she raced out of the small building which served as the barracks. She swiftly reasoned that the Spitfire MechWarrior was still in his room, and also that it would just waste time to go back and get him. With a quick sprint, she darted across the floor of the hangar and clambered up the ladder of the _Shadow Cat_.

"LOWELL!" Fred barked again over the radio.

"On my way, Alpha," the man replied. "This thing's only got a max speed of—"

"Aw, hell with it!" Fred swore angrily. "I'll take this bandit out, myself!" There was a loud click of heavy machinery, followed by a very distinct _krrk-cha!_ as the _Hellhound_ fired its light gauss rifle.

By this time, Randi was fully situated, and the reactor of the _Shadow Cat_ was humming warmly.

"Reactor: online. Sensors: online. All systems nominal," reported the computer.

With the OmniMech fully powered up, she took the joystick and guided it out of the hangar quickly. She stomped down on the throttle, pushing the 'Mech to its top speed, and then mashed down on the jumpjets to propel the 45-tonner across the pavement. "Alpha, this is Black Wolf. En route to assist. What's your vector? Over."

"I'm half a klick from nav Gamma, moving roughly southwest. I'm trying to draw this _Assassin_ away from the foundry. Over."

"Copy. ETA eight minutes." The console in front of her beeped suddenly, and a red signature appeared on her radar. "Alpha, confirm your position. I just spotted a bandit inbound on the base. Over," she said. Randi targeted the hostile, and immediately snapped a curse of, "Freebirth!" It was not the _Assassin_, as she first suspected, but a _Hermes II_ HER-2S.

"What's going on?" asked Fred, hearing her curse.

"That _Assassin_ was a distraction—the Mariks sent a _Hermes II_ around to hit the foundry!" She quickly cycled to the _Cat's_ LRM-15s and began weaving through the trees to find the _Hermes II_.

"Take it out! I already knocked the arm off this _Assassin_ with my gauss. Another good hit might be enough to scare it off." He gave an audible sigh. "The Spitfires are missin' the party... Lowell! New orders! Move to the foundry center and patrol there."

"Roger," Lowell replied.

"Duerr?"

There was no reply.

"Duerr!" Fred barked again. "Gah, where is he?"

"Ja. I'm on my vay, Alpha," the man replied, his German accent noticeable over the crackle of the comm channel. "I had some trouble with the reactor start up."

"Save the excuses and move to assist Black Wolf, ASAP."

"Ja, Alpha. Understood."

Randi slowed her _Shadow Cat_ a little as she neared the swift _Hermes II_. In the low, pre-dawn light, she could discern its silhouette moving amongst the trees. Her LRMs out-ranged its AC/5, but the trees complicated things on both sides. Even if she got a clean shot, any movement from the _Hermes_ would change the flight path of the missiles and most likely send them crashing into the trees. The Artemis-IV system could only do so much in the forest.

"Come on..." Randi muttered, stalking the Marik raider. She hoped that her 'Mech's ECM would provide her an advantage.

As she tracked her crosshairs over the _Hermes_, her console beeped again with another new hostile, this time coming from the east. Her mouth jerked into a frown as she targeted it. It was an old _Phoenix Hawk_, moving towards the foundry. For a moment, she was tempted to let it pass and run into the AC/10 on Lowell's _Urbanmech_. Then she remembered that Lowell had never confirmed his position as the foundry center; and she could not expect that he would be able to handle the much faster _Phoenix Hawk_.

She turned away from the _Hermes II_—it was looking to hide—and darted out of the forest to confront the _Phoenix Hawk_. As soon as it spotted her, it fired its large laser, anticipating that she would run into the path of the beam. This proved to be a mistake for the _Phoenix Hawk_, as Randi was still about twenty meters outside the range of the laser. She throttled up and strafed the enemy 'Mech with a shower of LRM-15s, keeping her distance from it. The missiles ravaged the _Phoenix Hawk's_ armor, throwing purple shrapnel into the air as evidence.

The 45-ton BattleMech immediately began to retreat, knowing it could not suffer another such hit. In the split second before she could decide whether to pursue it or turn back for the _Hermes II_, the choice was made for her. An AC/5 round from the _Hermes II_ slugged her _Cat_ in the arm, sending the machine reeling to the side a little. She caught a glimpse of the wing-footed chassis as she turned to compensate for the imbalance, but it quickly disappeared back into the trees.

With a quick stomp to the throttle, she bolted for the trees. _'If I stay in this field, I will be wide open for autocannon shots,' _she thought, maneuvering between the tree trunks.

Ahead, she could see the _Hermes II_ again. It spotted her, as well, and burst back out into the field. Before Randi could follow, there was a sudden, roaring hiss and a wall of searing orange leapt up in front of her. The forest went ablaze as the Marik hosed down the trees with its flamer. Even inside the cockpit of her 'Mech, she could feel the heat of the fire.

Randi backpedaled away from the blaze and hit the comm. "I think the _Hermes II_ is making a break for the foundry. It just lit up part of the forest and cut me off. I'm still in pursuit, but we will need some sort of containment on this fire before it spreads towards the foundry."

"Get out of there, now!" Fred commanded. "Forget the bandit."

"I'm fine. I just need to find a way through," she insisted, glancing down to her radar. Surprisingly, the _Hermes II_ had ceased to move away from her, and was circling around on her left. To the southern fringe of her radar, the _Phoenix Hawk_ was moving towards her again. "Scratch that. They are trying to pin me in."

"Randi, do whatever you can to get out of there! I'm on my way to help."

"Aff." She wasn't sure what sort of condition the MASC circuitry was in, but decided it was a good time to find out, and keyed it on. The _Shadow Cat_ sprinted forward, then jerked, shuddered, and finally stumbled to a near-stop. She nudged the throttle a little and was met with a scraping sound from the actuators. "Uh, Alpha... The MASC is malfunctioning. My actuators are getting locked up, and the throttle won't budge."

"Frackencrack," muttered Fred, "Prewitt probably abused the system too much when he had that 'Mech. Abandon the _Cat_ if you have to, just _get out of there_."

Randi frowned and stomped down on the throttle a few times, then hit the jumpjets. The 45-ton 'Mech rocketed upwards on its jets, and then dropped back to the ground roughly. It leaned a little, swaying as she brought it back into balance, and then finally trotted forward after another good stomp on the throttle. "Yes!" Randi cheered. She resumed picking her way through the burning forest.

Unfortunately, the _Phoenix Hawk_ was getting closer, and the pyromaniac _Hermes II_ had set even more of the forest ablaze. Over the snarl of the flames there was a sudden explosion, and a spray of armor, myomer, fluids and light crashed through the night air. She twisted her 'Mech's torso towards the flash of light and saw the _Hermes II_ reeling back, struggling to stay on its feet. There was a sizable hole in its left torso where a slug from the _Hellhound's_ light gauss had punched it. After a few moments, she could see the _Hellhound's_ signature on her radar.

_'Kerensky! He made that shot _at-range_?'_ She arched her eyebrows in surprise. The light of the fire must have provided Fred with enough illumination to take advantage of the high range of his main gun.

While the _Hermes II_ moved to evade the Clan BattleMech, the _Hellhound_ came under attack from the _Assassin_ once more. The Marik let loose a spray of its LRMs, clawing at the _Hellhound_ as it moved away. It could outrun Fred's chassis by a good clip, but the range and hitting power of his light gauss rifle had kept the quick-moving medium at bay, and reduced it to attempting swift hit-and-run strikes with varying degrees of success.

Fred ignored the Assassin and chased after the _Hermes II_, trying to distract it from Randi. As he darted forward after it, the enemy 'Mech aimed its gun at the ground and fired a stream of flames into the grass. The blaze spread unbelievably fast, tearing across the field. Fred turned back away from the blaze, then stopped abruptly.

Randi bit her lip as she watched him, still trying to navigate through the trees and flames while avoiding the _Phoenix Hawk_. She fired her C-STRKs at it through the trees, more as a warning than anything. Sawdust clouded the air where the missiles hit the vegetation, but at least two of the missiles hit their mark. She pushed the throttle forward a little further and glanced back at Fred again. _'Oh, no... I hope he isn't going to do what I think he is...'_

Sure enough, the _Hellhound_ whipped back around to face the _Hermes II_ and darted back for it. Fred slammed on his throttle and raced through the fire, sprinting across the lit grass to a patch of charred vegetation. Little flames licked at the armor of the _Hellhound's_ legs, and slowly died. He fired one of his C-STRKs and tore off a slab of armor from the enemy 'Mech's arm. Before he could smack the _Hermes II_ with another blast of his light gauss, a rush of LRM-10s crashed down around the Marik.

"Duerr!" Fred exclaimed. "It's about time!"

"Ja, Alpha. My apologies, this 'Mech is very slow."

At the approach of a third defender, the _Assassin_ and _Hermes II_ both broke off and darted through the forest, and the _Phoenix Hawk_ turned to join them. The _Hermes II_ set a blaze behind it, masking their escape with flame and smoke.

By this time, Randi had cleared the forest, and now stood on the opposite side of the grass fire from her commander. "Should we pursue...?" she asked.

"Negative," he replied. "If we follow, we'll probably get caught in that forest fire. Return to the foundry."

"Roger." Randi took a running leap with the help of the _Shadow Cat's_ jumpjets and cleared the fire, landing hard on the scorched ground. By this time, the sun was rising, but the illumination of the forest fire was greater. Ahead in the distance, she could see two VTOLs heading towards their position. The _Cat's_ computer identified them as fire suppression units. After a few minutes' walk, with the two Clan 'Mechs gaining ground on the _Wyvern_, they came in view of the foundry and Lowell's _Urbanmech_.

"You been holding down the asphalt?" asked Fred somewhat deadpan. "I assume there were no hostiles closing on the foundry, am I right?"

"Yes," replied Lowell. "Didn't see a single hostile in range."

"Well, give yourself a pat on the back and take your walking soda can to the hangar. I just contacted the airfield, and they've got two _Hawk Moths_ en route to take over patrol for us."

"...Roger," replied Lowell somewhat stiffly, obviously feeling insulted by Fred's jab.

Randi couldn't help but snicker to herself as the _Urbanmech_ waddled back into the hangar like an angry penguin. Duerr's _Wyvern_ followed, then Fred in his _Hellhound_. She brought up the rear and quickly maneuvered her 'Mech back into its space in the hangar, next to the _Bushwhacker_. As she peeled off the sensors from her skin and unbuckled the restraint harness, she noticed that Fred remained standing at the foot of his _Hellhound_ while _Duerr_ and _Lowell_ walked back towards the barracks. She quickly slipped off her neuro-helmet and climbed down the ladder from her 'Mech to meet him.

Fred was scowling very deeply, and his lips were pulled back into a tight line. He glanced back over his shoulder to the two Spitfires, and then looked back at Randi. She immediately knew what was on his mind: something was not right. He gave a nod for her to follow and walked further back into the hangar to an area that had been cordoned off for spare parts. The scrap of armor retrieved from the _Mongoose_ sat among a myriad of mechanical bits and pieces, some rusted, some still packed in boxes.

"Knife?" he asked quietly.

Randi gave a nod as she pulled the hunting knife out of her boot and handed it to him.

He knelt down in front of the armor and dug the blade of the knife into the purple paint, scraping away at it. He brushed off some flakes of paint, then scraped a bit more, and leaned back a little to look at it. Where he had peeled off the Marik purple, there was a layer of crimson paint.

"Dammit," he muttered angrily.

"How did you...?" Randi whispered as he returned her knife to her and stood.

Fred looked around quickly, then leaned over to her ear. "You've never seen the Marik militia before, have you?"

"No," she whispered back.

"All their 'Mechs are purple with red accents on the right side and blue accents on the left side," he said. "When I got close to the Hermes, I could see that it had blue on the right and red on the left. I don't think the Mariks would mis-paint their own 'Mechs..."

She nodded and looked back at the armor slab, and then to Fred. "Well? What now?"

"Get a hold of Fischer. Make sure it's a secure line. Tell him what's going on, and try to get us some _real_ backup," he said, as he walked over to an equipment shelf and began to rummage around.

"Aff," she said. Randi gave him an inquisitive look. "What are you going to do?"

Fred arched his eyebrows, having found what he wanted. He picked up a portable arc welding unit and grinned. "I'm gonna make sure our new friends stay put."

* * *

_Notes: Chugging right along with the updates now..._

_Mosin asked a good question: why does Randi have a knife as her sidearm? To answer that for anyone who is wondering, knives requires no bullets, and can be used for more than just stabbing things. They're very useful tools.  
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	7. Chapter 7

_Notes: My apologies for the very late update. Once again, real life interferes... I'll try to make up for it._

* * *

Chapter 7

"I'm afraid Mr. Fischer is currently out of the office. He will return for the present work day in three hours. Would you like me to redirect you to someone else?"

Randi sighed and frowned at this. "No... No, thank you," she replied to the secretary. She turned off the comm and quietly opened the door, scanning the hall for any activity. As she walked down the corridor, she could hear a strange snapping sound, and some unintelligible but angry cries. The noise grew louder as she proceeded, until she turned the corner and discovered the source.

"...Fred?" Randi called over the crackling bark of the arc welder.

Her friend stood with one gloved hand holding a strip of metal over the door frame and the other moving the rod of the arc welder back and forth, while his foot was planted solidly over a metal wedge shoved just under the base of the door. For a moment, he seemed to ignore her, focused only on his work. Once he completed what he was doing, he stopped welding and lifted the face plate of his helmet.

There was some loud banging on the door, and muffled shouts from the room next to it. Randi could see that the second door down the hall had been arc-welded shut, as well. Duerr and Lowell were trapped in their rooms.

"All done," Fred said, grinning mischievously. "Not my best work, granted, but I was in a rush. This'll hold 'em for a good while now."

She nodded and frowned a little, ignoring the Spitfires' racket. "Fischer is not available," she said in a hushed voice, "and I do not know who else to talk to."

"Well, don't worry about it, then. For now," Fred replied as he grabbed a tool box up off the floor and handed it to her, "we have other business to attend to." He grinned even wider and flipped the faceplate back down.

"...Other business?" asked Randi, partly unsure if she really wanted to know the answer. She followed him down the hall and out the door into the early dawn, looking into the tool box curiously.

"Yep. Now that Duerr and Lowell can't run around and make trouble for us, we need to make sure the same is true of their 'Mechs."

"Sabotage?" The ex-Clanner frowned, pursing her lips. The word itself left a bad taste in her mouth. She wasn't entirely sure she could do such a thing. It went against the mores which had been programmed into her for so long.

"It's sabotage, piracy, and just plain fun!" Fred exclaimed cheerfully. He chuckled and gave her a light tap on the shoulder. "Hey, if it eases your conscience, think of it this way... They're technically our prisoners, so that makes their 'Mechs salvage. It's, um, _isorla_."

She stopped a mused on this for a second. Oddly enough, it made sense.

"Did I mention we can use some of the parts from their 'Mechs to fix up _Nyx_ and the _Bushy_?"

Randi grinned at this and trotted along after Fred.

"This'll probably speed up repairs on the _Shadow Cat_ and my _Hellhound_. Zettle agreed to pay for the equipment to make repairs, but it takes time to get those parts in, of course." He looked back at Randi, still wearing the faceplate. "So, you ever done any sabotage before?"

"No."

"Ever broken into a 'Mech?"

"No."

"Ever hacked into a computer?"

"No."

"Ever been in a Turkish prison?"

"What?"

"Just asking." Fred walked up to the side door of the 'Mech hangar and opened it slowly, scanning the interior, and then proceeded.

Randi followed him closely, holding her knife at the ready. As they walked further inside, careful not to trip over the debris in the hangar or slip in any one of the numerous spills on the floor, she noticed movement atop the dome of the _Urbanmech's_ chassis. Randi grabbed the laser pistol from the holster on Fred's hip and pushed him to the side, against the wall, and then quickly followed him, aiming the pistol up at the silhouette moving around in the dark.

"Randi! Ease up!" Fred hissed, pushing her hand down towards the floor quickly. "It's just Ned." He waved to catch the Technician's attention. "Allo, Ned. How's it?"

"Oh, uh, hey, guys. Just dropped my flashlight..." The figure which was apparently Ned shuffled around a bit before a cone of light lit his face. He rubbed his eyes a little and yawned. "Heh, you know if there's any coffee around this place? I'm still not completely awake."

"Yeah, well, just be careful, kid," came Harrison's voice from somewhere on the far side of the _Urbanmech_. "If you fall asleep up there, you're liable to slip off and go SPLAT! on the floor."

"And I'd hate to have to scrape that mess up," added Fred, nodding. He walked up to the ladder of the catwalk and climbed it quickly. Once he made it to the top, he reached back to the arc welding unit slung over his shoulder and "So, what can I start on—"

"Whoa, whoa! Slow down, scooter," said Harrison, now moving up to the top of the _Urbanmech_ to assist Ned. He chuckled a little as he opened up a panel on the chassis and began some soldering work. "You got to play around with the arc welder already, so cool your heels and let us _professionals_ handle the rest. How 'bout you put that thing down, and go see about overriding the _Wyvern's_ password protocols? I can't get into it."

"Fine, fine," Fred replied, smirking. "But I'll remind you that I used to do some of my own repairs before you two came on board."

"I know," muttered Harrison, "we're still trying to fix that poor _'Franken-Cat'_ up right."

"Um... Is there anything...I can do?" Randi piped up. She set the safety on the laser pistol and tucked it into the back of her waistband.

One of the two men turned the flashlight down to her. "What do you know about 'Mech repair?" asked Harrison.

Randi shielded her eyes a little with her palm. "Well, I'm, er...more familiar with Clantech, but—"

"If you know the difference between a screwdriver and a hammer, that's good enough. Mostly, we could use some more muscle up here. I'm gettin' old, and moving some of these components is a two-person job. You're a strong gal, right?"

"Heh, I guess." Randi climbed up the catwalk and trotted around to the _Urbanmech_. Truthfully, she might well have been the strongest person in the room. She slid the pistol out from the back of her waistband and deposited it in the holster at Fred's hip again, then scurried off to help the Techs.

The work or "sabotage and fun," as Fred called it, continued for a few hours as Harrison and Ned worked to strip all of the most immediately useful systems from the Spitfires' 'Mechs. After struggling for some time to wade through the German interface of the _Wyvern_, replying primarily on the similar layout to English-language 'Mech computers, Fred had finally pronounced it a futile effort. And with that, he obtained an excuse to take multiple power tools to the insides of the light 'Mech, and manually disconnect the monstrous system by hand, all the while singing, "Daisy, Daisy..."

Though he seemed sorely tempted to physically destroy the computer—he mentioned the idea of chucking it over the side of the catwalk, grinning—Fred ultimately erred on the side of sanity and decided that it was best to leave the equipment intact. Ned also pointed out that though none of them could decipher the German interface, a Lyran buyer could probably make sense of it. The _Urbanmech_ proved less of a challenge, as it had been programmed in English. This pleased Fred greatly, as it gave him a chance to dig through the Spitfires' battle ROMs and transmission data with relative ease, once he had hacked into the system.

Partly to dissuade him from giving too much "help" with cannibalizing any further parts from the 'Mechs, and partly out of necessity, Harrison helped him copy the computer data to a secure terminal. By this time in the morning, the regular Technicians from Zettle had arrived and had begun work under Harrison's direction, and so Fred was free to review the _Urbie's_ data. With the Zettle personnel quickly displacing her, Randi joined him, having nothing more useful to do.

"_Merde_..." he muttered, glaring at the terminal screen as she sat down next to him. "I'm gonna try to get a hold of Fischer again. I just found some very damning evidence on our friends." Fred tapped the screen angrily, indicating a force roster. "They've got listings for _eight_ people—including our two little buddies we got locked up right now. Fischer said that they only had _one_ lance worth of personnel. So, unless he's lyin' to us, too, the Spitfires falsified their force listings."

Randi nodded, scanning the list of names. "They would have no reason to do that, if they were not running both sides of the op. With two full lances, they could have easily defended both their current location _and_ this one."

"And that's where we come in. They needed someone else to defend this base, so that they could have a good alibi. I bet they were just overjoyed when they found out we only have two pilots. They probably thought this'd be easy pickings."

Just then Fred's radio crackled. "Acosta, you've got a call from Mr. Fischer here."

The mercenary grabbed his radio and a disk from the _Urbie's_ computer and began trotting back towards the comm station. "Copy. I'll take it on a secure line." He glanced back at Randi and motioned for her to follow. "Looks like he finally got to his office."

"And now we have some proof about the Spitfires," she said, nodding. "Um, do we have a plan?"

"Stop 'em."

"I was looking for something a little more detailed..." Randi said. Her inquiry went unanswered as Fred walked into the comm building to take Fischer's call. She darted after him hurriedly. Fred tapped on the display and the business man's image appeared on the screen.

"Ah, Mr. Acosta, Ms. Greene. My apologies for not returning your call sooner. I was not at my office," said Fischer, looking back and forth between the MechWarriors. "What can I do for you?"

"Ah, well, you see, we've run into a little problem with the help you sent us," replied Fred casually.

"The Spitfires? What's the trouble?"

"The Spits lied about their force numbers, painted their 'Mechs up in false colors and attacked this foundry," he said, feeding the disk he held into the console in front of him. "Y'know, jus' a trifle."

Fischer's eyes went wide at this. "Wh-wh-what?! Are...you joking? Please tell me this is a joke."

"Mm, 'fraid not. Oh, and I do have proof of it, too. I stripped Lowell's computer and found the numbers, personnel, and 'Mechs all listed. ...Plus the 'bandits' had their bloody paint scheme _wrong_. You ever seen a Marik with the stripes mixed up? No? Me neither. You should be getting the files any moment now..."

Fischer stuttered for a moment as he received the information mined from Lowell's 'Mech, and looked back at the MechWarriors nervously. "C-can you fix this?"

"_Fix_ it?" Randi asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Er, get rid of them! Make them leave! Or something!"

"Why, I thought you'd never ask." Fred grinned. "We already got a nice start on fixing up Duerr and Lowell... If you want to send a security detail to pick them up, that'd be swell. Now, as to fixing the rest of this mess, that's where you come in, sir."

"...What do you need me to do?" asked Fischer meekly.

"First of all, you need to get a hold of the third merc team ya got ramblin' around, and send them to beat up on the 'official' Spitfires. I'll leave the specifics to you, but I'd suggest something along the lines of _ambush,_" he said with a chuckle. "While they take care of those guys, Randi and I will mop up the buggers what attacked this foundry. We bloodied 'em up pretty nice last time, and I doubt they've been able to repair. The VTOLs can babysit this foundry while we're off hunting."

"A couple of _Hawk Moths_ would be helpful to our search," added Randi.

"Very well," said Fischer slowly.

"Oh, and...not to be presumptuous, but I do hope our efforts might be deserving of some additional...monetary compensation?"

Fischer sighed and nodded. "I will see about increasing your bonus..."

* * *

After a few hours to rest and allow Zettle's technicians to repair their 'Mechs, Fred and Randi headed back out into the field. Hyde's sun was now at its full strength, giving the advantage to the hunters. Fred again took his _Hellhound_ and Randi took the _Shadow Cat_. While there had been some consideration about taking the _Bushwhacker_, the weight advantage the 'Mech presented was not worth the additional time needed for its more extensive repairs. The _Cat's_ electronics were more of an asset right now than size, and the pair of _Hawk Moths_ that Fischer had sent with the two mercenaries provided enough fire power to even the odds very nicely.

"Alright, guys and gals," Fred said, hitting the comm as he piloted his 'Mech out of the hangar. "Moth One and Two, fan out and give me a wide search pattern. Our bogies came roughly from the southwest. Satcom indicates that there are a few nice-size lakes around in there that they could be stowing the 'Mechs in during the day. Now, what we're looking for is a deep lake _and_ an area where they can hide their equipment and personnel. A thick stand of trees, maybe a cave of hillside. If you see anything suspicious, let me know and investigate. Now, the only friendlies we've got are klicks away, so feel free to shoot first and ask questions later."

"Uh, Alpha, this is Moth One," said one of the VTOL pilots. "Won't we need the bandits for questioning?"

"Nope!" he chimed. "So, like I said, shoot first. If they can't answer any questions after you're done shooting, it's no skin off my nose. So, let's get to work!"

"Roger," Randi replied, trotting after his _Hellhound_. "And if we do catch them? More 'fun' ensues, I assume?"

Her partner chuckled. "You learn fast."


	8. Chapter 8

_Notes: A huuuuge thanks to my friend Greg for helping me out on this chapter. It's much appreciated._

* * *

Chapter 8

Randi scanned the viewscreen of the _Shadow Cat_ intently as the machine pumped its metal legs quickly, running at a good 80 k/m, keeping the speed between standard cruising and a full-throttle run. Speed was imperative, but she did not want to rush into a trap, either. As she spotted nav point Bravo, marked for her by the _Hawk Moth_, she felt her pulse race a little in anticipation. She could not yet see Fred's signature on her radar, but she could see one of the VTOLs on scope and its silhouette in the sky as it swept through the search pattern ahead of her.

"How's it going, Moth One?" asked Fred.

"No activity so far, sir, and no sign of our bogeys," the pilot replied.

The day was drawing on, and so far, the search had turned up nothing. The sheer area that needed to be covered was proving a problem. _'Maybe we should not be out here,'_ Randi thought. _'Maybe we should let them come to us.'_ She hit the comm to her partner. "Fred? Um, I was thinking... We have Duerr and Lowell prisoner. Might that convince the others to surrender?"

"It might," he replied. "But then again, it might not. They may not care, or they may try to pull a rescue. I think we're better off actively hunting them than just waiting."

"Aff," she replied, pondering his assessment.

"If we catch 'em, we can try to use that as leverage. But just remember, most people will bargain for their own lives. There aren't too many that'll bargain for someone else's life."

That was something she had not actually considered. Within the Clans, there was no bargaining for prisoners, as all those captured by an opposing Clan were simply absorbed into it as bondsmen. It seemed to her that there should be enough camaraderie among an InnerSphere unit to warrant rescue or bargaining for any of their members held prisoner, though.

_'Then again, maybe I am too naïve about that. Fred and I would help one another, but... would I help someone I did not know well? Someone I was not attached to?'_ Her partner definitely had a point. _'I guess I should be glad that we are on the offensive, anyway. It is...more Clanlike, I think.'_

"All units, this is Moth Two. Be advised there are possible signs of enemy activity about half a klick west from nav Charlie. Mark some damaged trees and what may be 'Mech footprints heading west-southwest, bearing 1-8-7."

"Copy. That sounds like what we're looking for, Moth Two," replied Fred. "Try to follow those tracks if you can. It might lead us to their den."

"Roger that. Proceeding."

The VTOL ahead of her turned to starboard, changing course to merge its route with Moth 2. She followed suit in the _Shadow Cat_. "Alpha," she said, "perhaps I should take point. The electronics in the _Cat_ could give me some element of surprise."

There was a pause from Fred. He answered slowly, "I'm not sure—"

"Look, just let me run ahead by about five hundred meters," she insisted. "I can detect shut-down 'Mechs, so I can easily strike before they detect me."

Fred sighed, sounding quite frustrated. "Last time we ran into these guys, they almost roasted you alive. The VTOLs can't be trapped like that."

"And they don't have the electronics that I do."

He sighed again. "Moth One and Two, fall back and let Black Wolf take point. Keep scanning the landscape and help her out."

Randi hit the tight-beam channel. "I know what I'm doing," she said softly, and nudged the throttle forward, passing the second _Hawk Moth_ as it slowed.

Eventually, she caught up to the lead VTOL, which had been hovering over the broken trees since Fred gave the order to let her take the lead. She slowed then to take in more of her surroundings, and began to follow the path left by the Spitfires' BattleMechs. Sometimes, it could be very difficult to track even something as large as a BattleMech. The somewhat soft ground showed the footprints, however, and the pilots had been a little careless in navigating the trees, often nicking large chunks off the bark where they squeezed through.

As Randi proceeded, the forest thinned and eventually gave way to shrubs and grassy plain, with a lake out further still. Here the grass grew taller and the footprints became lost to her perspective. She slowed momentarily and scanned the horizon. Up ahead, she could make out what appeared to be another stand of trees. Rather than waiting for the _Hawk Moths_ to confirm a trail, she went with her instinct and pushed forward towards it, strafing around in a wide arc.

"Enemy detected," said the increasingly familiar computer. A signature appeared on the fringe of her radar, marking a powered down _Assassin_.

"Contact! Fifteen hundred meters from my position south-southwest, bearing 2-0-5," she reported.

"Stop and hold!" Fred ordered quickly. "Okay, time to size things up... Moth One and Two, hang back for a minute."

"What's on your mind?" asked Randi. She came to a stop at the edge of the tree line, just before the forest gave way to sporadic shrubbery and then an open, grassy plain. _'I could attack them at range and bloody them up before they can start up,'_ she thought. _'He must be thinking the same thing, but he is hesitating.'_

"We could strike at range... but I think I have a better idea. The ECM suite will hide your signature, but they're not gonna miss that 'Mech stomping through the meadow if they're actually looking your direction. When you get closer, they'll definitely hear it. So, let's make sure their attention is decidedly elsewhere."

Randi looked up to the viewscreen and noted that Fred's Hellhound was strafing around to the left behind her through the woods.

"Moth One, Two, on my signal, follow my vector and light up that grove of trees. We probably won't get any decent shots until we have a clear visual. Don't worry about that," he said, then returned to his conversation with Randi. "As soon as we open fire, they're gonna be looking at us."

"So, I slip around on their six and open fire while they are distracted, yes?"

"Bingo."

A few tense moments passed as Randi watched Fred and watched her radar for any signs of powered-up 'Mechs. A shot of chill energy ran up her spine as Fred, called "Go!" and the the rotors of the _Hawk Moths_ thrashed the sky. At this, she turned right and began circling around in a wide orbit around the grove of trees. She quickly stomped down on the throttle to complete her arc and move in behind the Spitfires as her allies advanced.

Just an instant later, gauss rifle slugs assailed the bandits' hideaway, coring armor and tree trunks alike. It was not a hailstorm of ammo, but rather a turn-based cycle, with both VTOLs and the BattleMech attempting to pinpoint their shots on the enemy 'Mechs. It wasn't long, however, before the _Assassin_ powered up and replied with a slew of LRMs. The missiles burst against the foliage shielding Fred, and slammed against his torso. He retreated into the foliage a little more and began weaving through the trees for a new firing position.

Another Spitfire, the _Mongoose_, attempted to make a run for it. With the ECM suite it carried, it was hidden from sensors, but a bright purple, 12-meter tall, one-armed humanoid thing running through the grass at breakneck speeds was not easily missed. Fred switched his attention from the _Assassin_ to its lighter comrade, having no intention of letting it escape. The 25-tonner had already taken some damage in its first charge against the foundry, but even at full armor strength, it had no prayer of withstanding fire from three light gauss rifles. Even as its pilot slammed the throttle and the MASC, the nickel-ferrous slugs chased it over the plain, ripping through it like crepe paper. It fell in a heap on the plain with black, thick smoke pluming up through every hole and tear, as an ejection pod burst from the head.

Trusting that the remaining active 'Mech was occupied, Randi lined up her shots on the shut-down _Phoenix Hawk_ and let loose a swarm of LRM-15s, guided by the Artemis IV system. The warheads ate through a few spindly trees and a wide spray of armor. She fired again, this time going more for the leg, and tearing through the left one; armor and myomer burst out of the gash in the side of the appendage, and the internal structure screeched as the shrapnel whipped around it. With a massive armor imbalance and no human brain to adjust for it, the _Phoenix Hawk_ crashed down on its side. The damage wasn't much, but anything that kept the 'Mechs out of action was good.

She quickly switched her attention to the alert of a cold start from the _Hermes II_. It still showed the scars of their previous encounter. Determined to give it a few more wounds, Randi locked and fired her missiles at the new threat. The explosions and impacts buffeted it from side to side, but it regained its balance and set the grass in front of it ablaze, then made a run for it.

_'Freebirth!'_ Randi cursed mentally, and chased after it. Randi darted up towards the grove of trees (the gunships had ceased firing upon it now), using the foliage to cover her approach on the Spitfire's six. _'As soon as I move from behind the trees, the pilot will catch sight of my 'Mech on his viewscreen...'_ The attack would have to be very quick. She caught a lock on it and fired her LRM-15s again, then began to retreat.

The Spitfire 'Mech whipped its torso around to face her and planted an AC/5 round in the right side of her torso, and then set another blaze between her and it. The thick smoke from the grass fire masked its silhouette from view, though she could still see it on her sensors. She fired another salvo of LRMs after it, and the weapon began to blink green on her HUD.

"Warning, ammunition level: critical," the computer advised.

The twin ER medium lasers were all she had left after that weapon ran dry. The _Hawk Moths_ did not have nearly enough armor to engage the 'Mech close up, and were forced to stay at-range or risk being shredded by its AC/5. Randi bit her lip a little tensely and started running parallel to the _Hermes II_. Her lasers weren't much, but with the damage the medium 'Mech had sustained already, that would be sufficient. The problem would be getting in a position to use the lasers, and keeping away from her foe's autocannon.

With just a second's hesitation, she darted towards it, barreling through the flames and smoke. The _Hermes II_ seemed surprised at this, and began to turn to engage her. Instinctively, Randi fired both lasers into its torso to stun it. Armor slag ran down the 'Mech's chassis as the beams hit it, and it returned fire with its pulse laser, grating armor from her damaged side. Before Randi could press her next attack, a slew of C-STRKs blistered into her enemy's back. The 'Mech stumbled, then fell forwards on its face.

"That takes care of the 'Mechs," said Fred, trotting towards her. "I just called the airbase about a pickup for the pilots we downed. Now, we need to see about the _Phoenix Hawk's_ pilot."

"Alright. I'll go check it out," Randi replied, turning back towards the forest. "Cover me."

"No, not this time. I'm the one with a gun _and_ a knife."

"It's a three-inch pocket knife."

Fred paused. "Yeah, you're still staying here."

Randi frowned, somewhat annoyed, but relented. She had a feeling that she was not going to win this argument. However, she was still concerned about her partner. _'Has he had any wilderness training? Any ground-based search-and-destroy experience? He _did_ get kicked out of the military, afterall...'_ she thought a little nervously. _'No, no. He will be fine. He would not go if he did not know what he was doing. ...I think so. No! He'll be fine,'_ she insisted to herself.

She stopped her 'Mech close to the forest's edge and waited as Fred disembarked from his _Hellhound_, and then proceeded into the woods. After some time, which felt more like a painfully long hour than the ten or so minutes it really was, Fred's voice came over the radio.

"Found their base camp. These guys were really roughing it—just a few tents covered over with brush for camouflage, and some basic camping supplies. They were probably relying on their buddies at one of the foundries for tech support. Maybe they were planning to head back to their DropShip, if they've got one on-planet. There's no sign of the _P-Hawk's_ pilot, either."

Randi heaved a sigh of relief. "Do you think he bolted?"

"Maybe, but I don't see where he could have gone. Then again, maybe we just didn't notice him. Well, I'm heading—"

"Where?" Randi asked. Her question went unanswered. "Fred? I didn't get that. Where are you going?"

Suddenly, there was a loud rapport of machine gun fire from the woods and a somewhat delayed notification of a cold-start. It was an InnerSphere Standard armor.

"Freebirth!" Randi cursed aloud this time, and began searching through the trees to try and spot the thing. She could not attack it until she made sure that Fred was far enough away from it to be safe. "Fred! Where are you!?"

There was another spray of machine gun fire, and then another. Randi could only hope that the continued shots meant her partner was still alive. Her sensors indicated that the BattleArmor was moving parallel to her now. She quickly tapped the throttle and trotted along after it, adjusting her course to stay out of its visual range. There was a chance it had not detected her, due to the wearer's low vantage point and the _Cat's_ ECM.

Ahead, the trees became sparser, and watching the forest floor carefully, she could see a flash of movement through the shrubs. Another blur followed the first—a purple-painted humanoid. There was about one hundred meters between them, give or take, and the Armor-wearer decided to shorten that with a burst of jumpjets. As soon as it rose into the air, Randi fired both lasers at it consecutively. One grazed it, knocking it off course, the other missed.

Wasting no time for her weapons to reload, she darted through the trees then hit her own jump jets and leapt forward, landing just meters behind it. As the pilot, still dazed, began to stand, Randi centered her balance and kicked it. The foot of her 'Mech connected with the armor solidly, making a loud metallic crunch. The force sent it and some of the turf sailing through the air until it landed in a mangled mess of now red-and-purple metal. For good measure, she slammed the foot of her 'Mech down on it again.

"Fred!" she exclaimed, starting to feel high on her adrenaline. "Where are you?!"

"I-I'm okay," he replied, gasping for breath. He emerged from the underbrush slowly, and leaned against the nearest tree for support. "I'm okay... Thanks."

Randi slouched back in the command couch, and closed her eyes. "Good."

"So, next time... You think we should—"

"Napalm bomb it? Yeah."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"What a _disgusting_ place," Akela muttered as he stood in the drizzling rain, surveying the tall, brightly lit buildings that clawed at the darkened Solaris sky. Each one was like its own Tower of Babel, grasping for—but never reaching—the divine. The flashing, color-shifting, ever-glowing lights might distract some, but they were a futile decoration to the ugly buildings. The Clans usually strove for practicality over beauty in most of their structures; and they knew that trying to prettify things which were inherently unsightly was a wasted effort.

More than the outward facade of the buildings, however, Akela felt that there was an ugliness about the place itself. Solaris VII was little more than a rotting apple, where money and fame reigned supreme. Were he to ask anyone on the street what they thought of ancient gladiatorial games, where slaves, criminals, and poor unfortunates were slaughtered for the amusement of the masses, he knew the old bloodsport would be met with revulsion. Yet these people and people all over the InnerSphere thrived on the bloodsport of the 'Mech battles.

_'And I have to sift through these barbarians for my target...'_ he thought, unhappily.

He had been a little surprised that his superiors allowed him to come here. Perhaps his recently won bloodname allowed him more leeway in his mission, or perhaps his superiors merely agreed with the necessity of this unpleasant course of action. However, his search was beginning taking a turn towards espionage, and that was something of which the Clans strongly disapproved. It was for this reason, along with the sense that he could operate better alone, that he relinquished temporary command of the Star to Lonan, the best Warrior in his command, and allowed the unit to remain where they were. The only thing he brought with him aside from personal provisions was the _Adder_ that he currently piloted.

There was a low rumble of thunder off in the distance, and with that, he decided to walk onwards. The Clansman had already been to quite a few bars in the few days he had been here, and found nothing of interest. Thor's Shieldhall—his first stop after arriving—was devoid of useful information insofar as he could gather from its thoroughly soused patrons.

After that disappointing waste of time, he had determined that his best bet was to try some seedier locations and possibly to hang about the bloodpits. Whoever had the schematics would certainly not want it widely known. It was a little difficult, however, for an outsider like himself to get through the shroud around the black markets run on Solaris. Sanders was a thief, and thieves, like roaches, tried to stay out of the light.

There was some rumor that she had been killed in a spontaneous 'Mech fight, but the details he had caught were sketchy. There were also rumors that her 'Mech was destroyed, while Sanders herself had escaped. If she had survived, it was unknown where she was now. He was wary of asking about Sanders directly. To say that he was looking to collect the bounty on her would probably make it harder to get any information. If he concocted some other lie, then he would probably find himself in even more trouble. His last real lead had been something of a freebie. With so many wanted posters around, he was hardly conspicuous for asking about Sanders; that was not the case on Solaris.

Akela frowned as the rain began to pour harder, and tried not to let his thoughts become too negative. He had at least found the vicinity of the battle that may or may not have claimed Sanders' life.

She probably hadn't gone too far from her normal haunting grounds when the trouble started. The Clansman looked around and, spotting a bar he had not yet visited, made his way inside. Above the door was the neon-lit outline of a gangly little Spheroid 'Mech, and the lettering beneath read, "The Flea's Hideout."

A somewhat lonesome and vaguely synthetic sort of tune drifted through the scarcely populated bar from the holovid. A few of the patrons looked up to acknowledge him as he entered, but just as many continued to stare into their drinks or otherwise ignore him. The bar counter was uncrowded, so he took a sloppily-folded newspaper from an empty table and claimed one of the barstools.

"What'll it be?" asked the bartender.

The Clansman sighed lightly, still preoccupied with his own little Catch-22. "A dark rum," he answered.

In general, he tried to avoid drinking much alcohol—which was not an easy task with all the bars he had to sift through—but right now he was not opposed to getting just a little tipsy. He wasn't looking to get completely drunk, though, as that would bring with it the risk of slipping classified information.

He began poring over the newspaper as the bartender poured his drink. Most of the so-called news was nothing but celebrity gossip. There was some mention of political unrest in various parts of the Sphere and "continuing coverage" of the incidents on Outreach, but that amounted to little more than gossip as well, consisting primarily of rumors, speculation, and various conspiracy theories that, all told, implicated just about every individual of rank and power in the InnerSphere—including at least one lingerie model.

Planetside news was very nearly the same thing as the intergalactic news, but on a smaller scale. Of course, the Solaris VII Championships was the most pervasive topic. Much of the editorial commentary was centered on predictions of which competitors were most likely to pull ahead of the others, citing a "power gap" left by some spectacular _Gladiator_ pilot, who vanished after his surprising rise to fame last year. There was no mention of Sanders or the 'Mech fight she had been caught in.

Akela sighed in frustration and sipped at his rum. Most times, he tried to enjoy the flavor, but right now he was growing too impatient even for that. He gulped down the remaining contents of the glass, then the subsequent refill, and continued skimming the paper somewhat disinterestedly until he came to a table of regional bloodpit matches that was tucked away on one of the last pages. Sanders was not mentioned there, either.

"Hm, not too much of interest in the arenas these days," he muttered aloud. "A pity what happened to that Sanders woman. I was hoping she might just be the dark horse I was looking for in the matches."

"Mm-hm," the bartender replied, polishing the counter off to Akela's right. "She was a pretty good pilot. Might've made it to the Championships, if she'd had more time."

"Pity!" shot back a man sitting alone at one of the tables. His eyes were a little glazed and reddened with intoxication as he stood up awkwardly. "Whut's a pity, is she made me lose!" he growled, stumbling over his chair. "She cost me everything! My 'Mech, my plans, my money! _Everything!_"

By this time, Akela could feel a bit of a buzz from the liquor he had drank over the course of his travels this evening. He looked back over his shoulder at the man, intrigued by the this angry reaction to the mention of Sanders, but also unsure how to dig up further information. _'Of course I would get tipsy right when something _useful_ comes along,'_ he thought, displeased with himself. He fused his brow, trying to get his brain back into gear.

Now the drunken man was looking back at him with rather irate expression. "Whadd're you starin' at?! Dammit, Fred! Are you tryin' ta mock me?" he barked, weaving in his steps as he walked over towards Akela.

"What? I think you have me mistaken for someone else," Akela said.

"No, I'd know that stupid goatee anywhere," he shot back, swiping an uncoordinated fist just past Akela's jaw. "C'mon, let's take this outside. Just you 'n me—all or nothin'. An' this time yer little girl Bambi... eh, Candy? _Randi._ Randi—that's it. This time, _she_ ain't gonna save you."

"You are drunk and confused," Akela said, slipping off the bar stool to take a few steps back. The name immediately struck a cord of interest, but he preferred not to beat it out of the drunkard. "I have never seen you before in my life, and I do _not_ want to fight you."

"Eh?" The drunk blinked a few times, slow to respond, then gave the Clansman a critical eye and nodded. "Yeah, yeah... Yer too good-lookin' to be Fred."

"Um, thank you?"

At that, the man seemed to lose interest in further communication and walked out the door, mumbling incoherently about Sanders. The only thing that Akela could make of the slurring murmurs was a bitter, "Never shoulda trusted her..."

The Clansman paused for a moment, then laid down the money for his drinks and followed the drunk outside. "Wait. You knew Sanders," he said, catching up to the man. "What happened to her?"

The drunken man turned, stumbling a little, and frowned. "Fred's damned _Mad Cat_ pilot blew her to bits!" he shrilled, swinging his arms around comically at "bits".

"And who is this...Fred person?"

"A thief and a sore loser, tha's who 'e ish! And my mortal _emeny!_ Took my 'Mech and ran off with it. That sonuva—"

"And he...is involved with a woman named Randi? The _Mad Cat_ pilot?"

"Ya-huh. I got a picture of 'em," he said opening his wallet. "Wait. No. No, I don't. I did. But yeah. ...Say, why're you ashkin' me all thish?"

"I...Well..." Akela stuttered, stumbling over an excuse that would fly.

"You hate him, too, eh?" The man tried unsuccessfully to snap his fingers, and then looked up at Akela. "I know! That bastard took yer gurrl, Randi, didn 'e? Ya poor fella. Oh, and me—the name's Marcus."

_'Now, this game I can play,'_ Akela thought. He fought to keep the devious grin off his face and, no thanks to the alcohol, managed to maintain a more-or-less straight face. "Heh, that obvious, is it? She left me a few years ago. I never knew what happened to her, either—she just disappeared one day. I've always hoped I could find her again, but I never really though I would. I'm Akela, by the way."

"Hate t' get yer hackles up, Kay-la," Marcus said, missing the first syllable of the Clansman's name, "but gettin' her back might be kinna hard. I saw the girl 'round here awhile back with Fred—makin' out."

It took Akela a moment to remember what that term meant, but he feigned anger as soon as the answer hit him. "What?!" He let a growl edge his voice. "When you mentioned that she worked for him, I thought... I hoped... it was just professional."

Marcus perked up. "Hey... You want him dead, doncha? Yeah, fer stealin' yer gurl? Can ya pilot a 'Mech?"

At this, Akela hesitated, unsure if he should answer that. "I... Are you suggesting I start a fight? Really, I... just want Randi back."

"Yeah, but she's with Fred, now. So, yer gonna hafta get him to get her. Ya got it?"

"I see. If I may ask, what is your stake in this, Marcus? Revenge?"

"I got nuthin' else t' lose."

"I suppose I don't, either," Akela said with a chuckle. "So, I assume you know where they are, _qui_— Er, yes?"

Marcus scratched his head in thought. "Eh...Well, I know where they left from. No, I dunno. But I can find out."

"Alright, then. What do I need to do?"

"Get some coffee," the other man replied, holding his head. "Too much drinkin' an too much thinkin', fer th' night."

"Very well," said Akela, shoving his chilly hands in his vest pockets for warmth. "I suppose we should leave soon if we want to have any hope of catching up to them. Where should I meet you later?"

With a small grunt, Marcus plopped himself down on the wet, grimy street curb and nodded. "Yeah. Uh, hmm. Know I'll ferget it by mornin'... Jus' meet me at th' arena after the last match of the day, tomorrow. I'd be there in any case, so ya won't miss me."

"Alright then. Good night to you." Akela gave a brief wave and walked off down the street, finally allowing that nagging smile to take over his face. He chuckled, still just a little giddy with alcohol, and bowed his head slightly to the drizzling rain.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Gorgeous! Just _gorgeous!_" Fred exclaimed, as he walked into the hangar. Following repairs to the 'Mech, his previously "baby blue" _Hellhound_ had been repainted. The lean 50-tonner now sported a pristine lowland camouflage, with a bluish-green color on the feet that gradually transitioned to a swampy green at the top, mottled with light and dark bits to mimic foliage. Fred grinned widely and strolled up to the machine to give it a closer inspection.

Randi, following behind him, just quirked an eyebrow. "I take it this paint scheme is... less un-manly, yes?"

"Yes. Yes, it is. Anything is more manly than _baby_ blue." Fred ran his hand over one of the armor panels on his 'Mech's foot and then gave it a couple solid thumps with his fist. "Hmm," he mused, considering the very solid rapport from the armor, "looks like Zettle's techs did a pretty good job. It's nice to have good ol' _Beo_ back aright."

"...Beo?" asked Randi.

"Yeah, Beowulf. You know—big, tough warrior? Tore off Grendel's arm and beat him with it."

_'How in Kerensky's name do you beat a _Grendel_ with its own arm?!'_ Randi wondered. She fused her brow a little. "What Clan was he from?"

"Clan Geat. Didn't they teach you about this in school?"

This only confused Randi further. "Eh, who—"

"Yes, now, on to more pressing matters! I have our next contract lined up since Zettle no longer requires our services."

"What is it?"

"Defense and escort duty for Quikscell Company. They manufacture tanks, a few weapons, components and powerplants," explained Fred. "The last merc outfit they hired chose not to renew their contract. I think I can guess why..."

"And what would your guess be?" she asked, frowning a little.

At this, Fred paused as if searching for his words. "Well... not to speak ill of our soon-to-be employers, but Quikscell is not exactly know for, eh...commitment to quality, shall we say? I guess it's like they say... You cannot have good, fast, and cheap at the same time; you only get to pick _two_."

"I see..." she replied hesitantly. "So, where is it that we are going? I guess I should have paid a little more attention to the map."

"Ah, no problem." Fred reached into his pocket and fished out a low-resolution paper map showing several planetary systems, and offered it to Randi.

She took it and began to examine the region. One of the first things she noticed was that "Terra" had been crossed out, and written in place of it was "Toasterville"; several of the planets within a few jumps of Terra had also been marked through with an X. Now scanning the Steiner-Marik border, she spotted Solaris VII, circled with red pen. From it, a path was drawn to Hyde, which was also circled; the path then continued to Uhuru, Rochelle, and lastly, Kalidasa.

"Kalidasa itself seems like a pretty decent place to be," Fred continued. "Our main source of concern would probably be Kali-Yama Weapons. They've got a whole battalion of 'Mechs stomping around as 'security.' Apparently, they've been rivals with Quikscell for awhile now, and their CEO is getting kinda uppity."

The ex-Wolf's eyes narrowed in disbelief. "A battalion? You think the two of us can take on a whole _battalion?_" She paused for a moment. "How big is a battalion in the Outworlds?"

Fred rolled his eyes a little. "I know how big a battalion is, Randi. Look, I don't believe for a minute that we could thump all thirty-six 'Mechs on our own. However, the fact that we're there at all is likely to make Kali-Yama think twice about making the rivalry physical."

"If you say so," Randi conceded. She wasn't entirely convinced, but she knew there was no use in arguing.

"Cor. Anyhoo, the skiff's gonna be here soon. Have we got everything loaded up?

"Yeah. Everything is packed and ready to go. That just leaves the 'Mechs." Randi looked back at "Franken-Cat," as the 'Mech was apparently dubbed, which had been quite well repaired. _Nyx_ still needed a good bit of repairs, but the armor had been replaced while she and Fred had been hunting the last of the Spitfires. _'Now that I think of it, that is kind of odd,'_ she thought. "Say, Fred? Um, why did Zettle's people fix up my _Mad Cat?_ I never used it during our contract. I thought Zettle wasn't going to repair it or the _Bushwacker_."

Her partner shrugged and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. "No, but..."

"...You...you paid for it?"

He shrugged again and smiled, unable to keep a good poker face. "Let's just call it a business expense."

* * *

Solaris City was no less pleasing to look at in the waning afternoon light than it had been the previous night. Now, however, the myriad of steel and glass angles that comprised the classier portions of the metropolis glistened with a strong, warm gold light instead of the plethora of unnatural but comparatively weak neon colors that had lit it during the night. The slums looked exactly the same in this day's pleasant weather as it had in the rain.

Akela hummed a little tune from his own head as he walked along the street, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his vest and a rucksack slung over his shoulder. With a little rudimentary sewing, he had modified the right vest pocket to conceal a switchblade that he could easily access if the situation called for it. He generally preferred the standard-issue hunting knife that the Wolves used, but having an uncovered blade in a pocket over one's torso was decidedly ill-advised. He hoped that he would have no need of the switchblade, but he had always understood that luck favored the prepared.

_'And I have no idea what this Marcus fellow is like when he is sober...'_ he thought to himself, as he came up to the bloodpit arena. He instantly cursed himself for not having the presence of mind the previous evening to get a more precise answer concerning the location he should meet with this new contact. Still, he managed to locate the nearest arena, which he assumed was likely the one to which Marcus had referred.

The building that housed the arena was immense and also immensely ugly. It seemed to have been a factory of sorts at one time, stretching up towards the sky several stories from a crumbling foundation afflicted with mosses and slimes. Rebar twisted out of the concrete here and there like rusted saplings, and a portion of the carbon-caked smoke stack had caved in upon itself. The windows were dirty, broken, or completely missing, and the rusting, wide hangar-type doors were shut fast.

As he contemplated simply trying to find an alternate entrance, a sharp metallic screech shrilled from the hangar doors, followed by various mechanical groans and whines of rust against rust. As the doors opened, a steady stream of people and loud, pounding music overlaid with commentary on the match flooded out into the street. Among them, joined by a small group of men and women, was Marcus. He appeared to be noticeably less drunk today.

"Hello, Marcus," he said, as the man started to pass by, apparently have failed to notice him.

The man stopped abruptly and turned. "Eh, who're you?"

"Akela."

"Akela...?"

"Kerr," the Clansman replied swiftly. He kicked himself for not thinking of a more inspired "surname," but it was a better choice than "Wolfe" and definitely safer than using his true bloodname.

Marcus gave him a suspicious look, putting his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Do I owe you money?"

"No. I—"

"Do you owe _me_ money?"

Akela frowned a little. "No. We met last night at a bar. You told me to meet you here today."

He waited a moment, watching Marcus' face contort into a pondering expression, apparently racking his brain for information that intoxication had stolen from him. After a little bit, Marcus nodded in understanding, apparently having remembered the situation.

"Right, right." He began walking and motioned Akela to follow him. "So, first thing's first. Gotta figure out where Fred got to."

"Fred?" Akela shook his head. "I do not care where he has gone. I want to find _Randi_."

"I highly doubt they've split up. I only saw the chick a couple times, but she seemed kinda clingy with Fred, and she was pretty damned protective of him, too. Yeah, they'll be together, alright."

Akela just frowned and gave an angry grunt in acknowledgement of Marcus' assessment, remembering his act. "Well, then, where would Fred be? It sounds like I may have to personally punch his lights out."

"The spaceport's probably got his itinerary on file, still. Problem's gonna be getting them to let me have a look at it. But I think I can pull a few strings and find out."

"How do you propose to do that, if I may ask?"

Marcus flashed him a sly grin. "Let me put it to you this way... Pigs love to roll in filth. People love to roll in filthy _money_."

"So it seems." Akela chuckled but inwardly, he just felt sickened. _'I often thought that tales of the InnerSphere's corruption were hyperbole. Of course, there had to be some of this sort of thing but... to think that anyone can be bought for the right price is intensely disturbing,'_ he thought to himself. _'The Wardens really are fools for thinking that the Founder would want us to simply sit back and baby-sit a population of spoiled, greedy bratlings.'_

He hoped Marcus' information-gathering would be the only instance of these sort of duplicitous actions. It all smacked too much of the Dark Caste for him to feel at ease. Of course, his own travel documents were falsified—much to his chagrin—but that was necessary evil done for his own safety and the security of his mission. With Spheroid attitudes such as they were in regards to Clanners, he didn't doubt the possibility that he might be murdered for his origins should anyone find out.

"Where are we going?" Akela asked after a bit, still largely unfamiliar with the sprawling city. Clan cities were so much more orderly and easier to navigate.

"Remember how I said Fred took my 'Mech?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm gonna need to find one, ain't I?"

Akela paused for a moment. The use of "ain't" tended to throw him off a little. "So, where do you intend to get a new 'Mech before we depart?"

Marcus just chuckled at this. "You'll see."

A few minutes' walk took them from the decaying factory to another very similar structure which was also apparently an arena. There was a line at the door, but Marcus merely walked past the bouncers without so much as a nod, and motioned for Akela to follow him. Once inside, they took a wide spiral staircase into a large room with arena-style seating. In the center of the room was a large trivid display showing an intense battle between an _Enforcer_ and a _Dragon_. Shrapnel flew from both 'Mechs as they tore into one another mercilessly.

Largely ignoring the action on the trivid, Marcus continued walking along the brim of the arena seating to a fringe portion in the stands where there were fewer people. He sat down, fished a noteputer out of his jacket and began typing.

"Not to nag..." said Akela slowly, "but time is of the essence, I believe..."

"Yeah, but there are a few things to be taken care of first. Just sit back and enjoy the match, okay?"

_'Easy for you to say, Spheroid,'_ Akela thought glumly. The combat might have been interesting from a military standpoint except that it was not military but a ridiculous bloodsport. The Clansman fought the urge to ball his fist in frustration. _'BattleMechs are not _toys_, so why do Spheroids treat them as such? Why do civilians in these realms act so enamoured with recreating war? War is a terrible thing...'_

Despite how much the Solaris games disgusted him, he feigned interest. It was, at the very least, an opportunity to observe combat between two InnerSphere 'Mechs—albeit both were likely modified quite a bit for the games.

The combat arena seemed to be a very large, enclosed structure flooded with an oddly sterile fluorescent light. The walls were a metal of some sort, heavily rusted and in some places, completely corroded and scarred from weapons' fire. The floor was merely packed earth, though it was not packed quite firmly enough. As a blow from the _Enforcer's_ A/C 10 sent the _Dragon_ reeling back a step, its foot sent up a cloud of dirt.

Red laser fire stood out against the drab environment sharply, racing from the _Enforcer's_ guns to the _Dragon's_ high-arching shoulders. One of the shots went a little high and hit the ceiling. At that precise moment, Akela heard—and felt—a tremor in the floor beneath his feet. Several people screamed or shouted at this, reacting in fright, but the panic died down swiftly.

Apparently, the combat was not only teal-time, but it was taking place directly below the audience. Perhaps this was the closest the bloodpits could put their patrons to the action, without access to the Star League-era force shields that protected the Steiner Coliseum.

The _Dragon_, recovering from its wounds, began circling around the 50-ton 'Mech which had shaken the building. A stream of autocannon fire from the _Dragon_ lit up the dust could with the light of its tracers, and bored into the torso of its rival. Several moans of frustration rode up from the crowd as a further attack of LRM-5s sheered off the _Enforcer's_ laser. The pilot, in a fit of unintentional hilarity, actually tripped over the 'Mech's own severed arm as it tried to flee the _Dragon's_ LRMs. The crowd booed and jeered, and many of the audience members stood up, gesturing wildly and throwing papers or drinks angrily.

Akela chuckled a little at the _Enforcer's_ tumble in a small moment of Schadenfreude. It was a terribly pathetic thing to witness, but also rather amusing. He quickly returned to silence as he caught a rather irate-looking audience member eyeing him warily from a few seats away.

At this time, Marcus closed his noteputer and walked off towards a door at the far side of the stands, and disappeared into another room. He returned perhaps twenty minutes later, after the audience had largely dispersed, and plopped back down in his seat next to Akela.

"Well, that's taken care of," he said, grinning. "I convinced Arai to...lend me his _Dragon_ for an extended period."

The Clansman guessed that in this case lending was a euphemism for extortion of some kind. He decided not to dwell on the matter. "The _Dragon_ that was just fighting?" he asked.

"Yeah. It's gonna take about a week or maybe two for repairs. But that's that quickest I can get a 'Mech on this short notice."

"I see. Well, in that case, would you happen to know where I can find a good library or bookstore?"

Marcus looked a little puzzled, but nodded. "If by good, you mean big... Hm, well there's a pretty decent-sized library up ten blocks from here in one of the better parts of Black Hills. It's on the corner of Fifth and Larch."

"Then that's where you can find me when you're ready to leave."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Like the eye of a storm, the library was one of the few places on Solaris that seemed to draw a less barbaric crowd than the fans, players, and orchestrators of the games. That, however, was not the reason that Akela had come here. It was a way to relieve his boredom, and a good opportunity to research, but most of all, he simply loved to read.

He had practically taken up residence in the library, not only because he was not inclined to reveal his current abode to Marcus, but also because there seemed to be an endless supply of books here. All the more fascinating was that these were real, bound books and not electronic files of literature. He had seen only a handful of bound books in his lifetime, and most of that was owed to a brief encounter with a Seeker Warrior from Clan Goliath Scorpion. Bound editions were, of course, an unnecessary use of Clan materials since electronic formats got the job done just fine, compared with the dead-tree-and-leather style.

The wall-to-wall books and files had certainly proved fortuitous in any case. Over two weeks had passed, and Marcus still had neither fully-functional BattleMech nor any clue on Randi's current location. The latter of the two problems was quite frustrating to him, as there were only a handful of systems that they could have arrived at after departing Solaris. The problem was, of course, that in the time it would take Akela to search each one, his quarry would easily evade him. The only reasonable course of action was then, to wait.

He had been lost in thought for some time, alternately reading a little and pondering a little, when he suddenly noticed that it had become rather late. The skylight above showed a hazy purple atmosphere as dusk came, and most of the people in the library had left. He shook his head a little, stirring himself back to reality, and dug his way out of the unintentional alcove he had created from the piles of books around him. He took a couple stacks of the books and re-shelved them, then took the few he had actually bothered to check out, and walked out to the street.

A warm, somewhat humid gust of air met him as he opened the door. That reminded him of another reason to haunt the library—air conditioning. The apartment which he had been renting had a most distressing lack of air conditioning, and the temperatures of late had soared up into the triple digits with high humidity. Only now that dusk was upon the city had it become more bearable.

As he walked along the sidewalk back towards his apartment, he heard a quick, somewhat awkward fall of footsteps behind him. He stopped and turned to see Marcus trotting after him, a slight weaving in his steps.

"Hey! Hey, 'Kayla!"

"That's 'Ah-keh-lah,' if you please," the Clansman replied.

"Sure thing, Ahklah," Marcus said, still missing the pronunciation slightly. "Look, I, uh... I found out where they went."

The Clansman perked up at this. "Oh? Where are they?"

"Um, emphasis on _went_—past tense. I manage to get a copy of Fred's itinerary from the spaceport. Looks like he went to Hyde. The itinerary accounts for two people, and also for a _Mad Cat_, so your girlie's definitely with him," said Marcus, showing Akela the papers.

"Hmm... I wonder if they are still there. Is there any way to find out besides jumping to Hyde and repeating the process of trying to 'obtain' an itinerary?"

"No. Not really..." Marcus paused for a moment, then frowned a little. "Wait a sec... I think I could get an associate of mine to confirm that."

Akela nodded a little. He wondered how long it had _really _taken Marcus to retrieve this information, considering that he had the smell of alcohol and tobacco smoke about him. _'He has been in the bars or at the games—probably and possibly both.'_ "So," he asked, "how long until you have that _Dragon_ repaired?"

"A couple more weeks..." said Marcus a bit lamely.

"Oh, is that so? Hm, I would not have thought the repairs so difficult. But, heh, what do I know about repairing a 'Mech?" This statement, like most information he had given Marcus thus far, was not entirely accurate. BattleMech repair and Technician Caste work had been a favorite punishment of his sibko commander when corporal punishment would not do. _'I saw the damage on that _Dragon_,'_ he thought to himself. _'Provided Marcus has the money, the repairs should be complete by this time.'_

"So, I'm gonna head off to the pub, then."

Akela merely nodded. "And, uh, what of this associate you mentioned?" he asked, pressing the issue. He had a feeling that if he let it slide, it might be another two weeks before Marcus came up with anything conducive to the search.

"Oh... Well, I guess I could see about that now..." He looked unenthusiastic, but sat down on a bench and got out his noteputer. "Y'know it could be quite awhile before I get anything back from him. I mean with the time lag and all. Plus he's...kind of in the clink..."

Akela just smiled as though he did not realize that this was interfering with Marcus's plans for the evening. "I can wait," he said. He sat down beside the Spherer and began to act as though he was reading. From the corner of his eye, he could see the text.

_Recipient: Lowell, J._

_Subject: Mercs on Hyde_

_Hey, Lowell. I'm looking for a couple "friends" of mine. They were on Hyde for awhile, but they might be gone now. One's a chick with dark hair and light skin who pilots a black Mad Cat. The other's a guy with dark hair and skin. He's this Outworlds nutter who pilots either a SCat or a Hound—MY Hound, to be more specific... Got any idea where they are?_

_—Marcus Prewitt  
_

After Marcus hit "send," Akela resumed actually reading his book, content to wait. The Spheroid occupied himself with coverage of the games; it did not take him long to decide that muting the sound was preferable to Duncan Fisher's incessant commentary. Over an hour passed before a crisp ping sound came from the noteputer, signaling a message. Again, Akela did his best to read the text without Marcus' notice.

_new message; priority 01_

_Sender: Lowell, J._

_Subject: Re: Mercs on Hyde_

_Yeah, I saw them, Prewitt. Verdammte Schweinnehund! They ruined our whole op, and that "Outworlds nutter" is the one who shut me and Duerr up in our rooms. Klein said the SCat pilot—I guess it was the woman—killed Adler. Stomped the poor bastard to death with her 'Mech when he went out in his Armor..._

_I heard those two headed to Oliver, and are working for Quikscell, now. So, get your sorry ass down here and bail me out. I want a piece of 'em, too!_

_—Johann Lowell  
_

"Like I'm gonna spend any money to bail out a loser like him," Marcus muttered under his breath as he closed the noteputer and slid it back into the pocket inside his jacket. He turned to Akela then. "Well, it looks like Fred's got a contract with Quikscell at their Oliver plant." He laughed a bit. "Man, Freddy must really be scrapin' the bottom of the barrel to be working for a joke of a company like that."

"Perhaps," Akela remarked, never looking up from his book, but did give a faint smirk. "But client reputation aside, he _does_ have employment."

Marcus seemed to stiffen a little at that. He stood and gave Akela a brief wave. "Whatever. I'm heading down to the pub."

* * *

Randi pursed her lips a bit as she looked back at the clock, and chalked her hands. What felt like an hour had actually been just half that time. They had only now made it to Uhuru, and it was at least another two weeks of travel before they hit Kalidasa. Though she never complained, she was quickly finding that time was one of the hardest parts of mercenary life. Within the Clans, she could have easily occupied travel time with familiar hobbies, simulator training, and sparring.

One of her favorite things to do, though she never allowed anyone to know, was to spend time working with 'Mech computer systems. It was an interest sparked during her sibko days when she was once "punished" by being assigned to repair and upgrade systems. There was, however, little opportunity to do that now. Clan computers were just different enough that she did not feel comfortable trying to change any aspect of the _Bushwhacker_, and she sensed that Harrison and Ned would not take kindly to any further interference with the _Franken-Cat_. She wasn't about to lay a finger on Fred's _Hellhound_, either.

She sighed a little, rubbing her hands together, then hopped up and caught the chin-up bar. _'I cannot even repair my own 'Mech's computer... It would be nice at the least to have someone to spar with.'_ Space, as one who traveled through it soon learned, was not only vast in size but often vastly boring. She was simply grateful now that she could get in some exercise on the grav deck.

"Allo?" came a familiarly cheery voice, as Fred wandered into the room.

"Oh, uh, hi," Randi said, somewhat surprised to see him. She dropped down from the bar and picked up a towel, patting the sweat from her face. "What's going on?"

"Absolutely nothing," said Fred with a bit of a chuckle. "So, I thought I'd come get in some exercise. Heh, I guess you're doin' the same?"

She nodded and ran her hands back through her hair, fidgeting a little. "Oh. I am not in your way, am I?"

"No, not at all. Uh, actually, I was wondering... Well, you're good at hand-to-hand, right?" he asked. "So, I was thinking maybe you could teach me some stuff. If you don't mind, of course."

"I...guess so," she said hesitantly. The only way she really knew how to teach someone else to fight was to fight with them, and she was not at all keen on hurting Fred. "What sort of things would you like to learn?"

"Heh, I'm not sure to be honest."

She nodded and tossed her towel aside, drawing herself into a fighting stance. "Alright, then. Show me what you know, and I will try to teach you something new." As Fred did the same, she noticed his brow was creased in a bit of anxiety. "Do not worry about hurting me," she said reassuringly.

"Heh, you mean that?"

"I used to spar with Elementals."

"Oh, I guess you do mean that..."

Looking less worried, Fred began to circle around her slowly, trying to calculate his first move. Suddenly, he darted towards her, attempting to simply tackle her. Randi quickly brought her hands down onto his shoulder blades as he neared her and pushed him down against the floor.

As he fell, he quickly turned over onto his back, in an attempt to fight back. Randi was faster, however, and quickly straddled his chest, pinning one arm with a knee and the other with her left hand. She then quickly shot her right hand out to his throat, just under his Adam's apple, and pressed her hand against his neck lightly.

In addition to the surprise still on his face, she could see that he was getting a bit light-headed as she compressed the artery slightly. "Nice try, but you really should never tackle someone. It is far too easy to counter," she said, as she released him and stood up, moving aside.

"Heh, I'll remember that," he said, sitting up. "So, that pinning thing you just did... There's gotta be away to defend against something like that, right?"

"Yes, there is. Do you want me to show you?"

"Yeah... Honestly, that freaked me out just a little—being pinned and choked all of a sudden. I'd rather not have that happen in the future with someone who actually want to hurt me," he said, looking a little sheepish.

Randi smiled a little. "Heh, I understand how you feel. It is even worse when the person pinning you is _literally_ twice your size..." she said. "Well, lay down on your back again, and I will show you how the escape works."

Fred nodded and did as she instructed. Randi resumed her previous position, this time leaving his hands free.

"The first thing you need to do is turn your head aside so it is more difficult to compress the carotid artery. Next, get a hold of your enemy's arm," she explained. "Put your hands at my elbow and wrist. If you dig your fingers into the pressure points there, the enemy will not be able to keep a good grip on you."

"Like this?" Fred asked, as he pressed his fingers into the inside of her elbow and wrist.

"Yes," she replied, wincing. "You...don't actually have to _do_ that part..."

He quickly let go. "Oh, sorry."

"Now, keep your elbows at your side, still holding my arm, and wrap one of your legs around mine. You have to keep your leg tight around the enemy's to make sure they do not get free. As soon as you have got that, lift your hips up and roll to the side. As soon as the enemy is on the ground, quickly continue the turn so you are on top of them."

Fred nodded and again did as she instructed, quickly completing the turn. "Hey... that was actually pretty easy."

"It is easy so long as you stay calm and remember what to do. The final thing you want to do, of course, is pin your enemy or otherwise end the fight."

"Okay... Yeah, I think I've got it. So, what should I do to end the fight? Just a blood-choke?

Before Randi could respond, she heard a laugh from the hallway. "Ha, go git 'er, Fred!"

Fred's face turned red, and he quickly turned and stood up to face Ned and Harrison. "This is not what it looks like!"

"Yeah, it's even better," quipped Ned, laughing.

"Heh, so you're tellin' us you _weren't_ wrestling?" asked Harrison.

"No! Er, I mean, yes! We were... Randi was just..."

Randi stood up, just a little confused by the banter between the three men. She thought about saying something, but decided it best not to speak. For the moment, she just focused on trying not to show her embarrassment.

"Aw, we're just givin' ya a hard time, Fred," chuckled Harrison. "Anyway, I came to tell you, you've got a transmission comin' in from Quikscell."

"Yeah... I'll go take care of that," he said, walking off down the hall quickly.

Randi followed after him, her pace a bit more at-ease. As she neared the communications room, she could hear Fred's voice drifting out the open door. He was _not_ pleased.

"What do you _mean_ we're 'not needed'?!" he snapped. "I have a contract!"

"Please, Mr. Acosta, if you would just listen a moment..." said a woman, "your contract is still valid."

"I should expect as much."

"Uh, Fred? What's going on?" Randi asked, as she slipped into the room quietly.

"Well, that's what I'm trying to find out." He looked back at the comm panel.

The woman resumed her explanation shortly "Alright, I've gone over the files again, and it seems that there was a clerical error. The start date, pay rate, and terms and conditions are all correct, but the location given on your copy is apparently wrong," she said. "You are needed at our plant on Oliver, not here on Kalidasa."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

It seemed that there was always too much time on a JumpShip, and practically nothing to occupy it. Rather than making the time pass more quickly, Randi found that running laps on the grav deck only seemed to slow the clock. She suspected that running in a circle—and inherently infinite figure—might be the cause.

Aside from a short stop at Rochelle the previous week, there had been no change of scenery or routine For now, running and exercising was about all she could do for amusement. It was necessary, anyway, in order to avoid muscle atrophy from the zero-g environment of the rest of the ship. Gravboots only kept people from floating away, but did nothing to maintain the body.

The MechWarrior looked up at the clock on the wall, as she ran, waiting for another minute to pass. Five minutes seemed like an hour, but eventually, the oppressively mundane feeling she had was pushed aside by curiosity. She could hear someone approaching, gravboots clunking on the floor.

"Hey, how's it goin'?" asked Fred as he walked through the door. They had not seen much of each other over the past few days, as he had been rather occupied in dealing with their new employers.

Randi slowed her pace around the room from a run to a jog, allowing him to take off his boots and then catch up with her. "It is...going," she said. To say that things were good was a lie, and calling the situation bad seemed like an exaggeration.

"Heh, _más o menos, amiga?_"

"Um...?" Randi slowed to a stop, trying to figure out what he had said. "_Nein...sprechen Sie Deutsch?_"

Fred just chuckled as he trotted up beside her. "Don't worry about it," he said. "So, how's the exercise coming along?"

"Alright. It would be a little better if I could—er, uh..." She fumbled for her words a little, realizing what she had begun to say might not be the most encouraging remark.

"If you could what? Find somebody to spar with?" Fred shook his head. "Heh, you don't have to worry about hurting my feeling or anything if you don't want to spar with me. I'm probably not much of a challenge, and Harrison and Ned don't need any more reason to think we're canoodling," he said, looking rather embarrassed.

"_Canoodling?_" asked Randi, confused

"Uh, anyway," Fred continued, trying to change the subject, "I got in touch with Quikscell again, just to make sure everything is really-for-real straightened out."

Randi picked up her jogging a little. "How did that go?"

"Oh, they were...reasonable. Mostly. But everything is fixed now, and they transmitted an updated report to us. By the way, they said someone inquired about our employment status with Quikscell. I guess we must be more popular than I thought."

_'But question is, did they want to hire us or hurt us?'_ Randi wondered to herself. "Did they tell you this person's name?"

"Um, I think it was... _Kerr_ something. Nobody I know. Sounds Scottish, though—probably a Lyran."

She nodded. "I do not know anyone by that name, either. I guess that is a good thing, though."

"Why's that?"

"Because... everyone one I used to know would like to see me dead."

Fred knit his brow, frowning a little. "That's got to be a bit of an exaggeration... Right? I mean, don't you have siblings—I mean sibkin—still out there? They still care about you, I'm sure."

She shook her head. "I didn't defect, per se... but they probably all see me as a traitor. Well, the ones who know I left the Clan, that is. Only a few of us graduated to be Warriors."

"Oh... That's pretty tough. Were you close to any of them?"

"Not really..." she said quietly, looking away. "I was friends with some of the others when we were very young, but all of them tested into different Castes. Only about a dozen of us made it to Warrior training, and I ended up competing a lot with the others."

Fred chuckled a little. "Yeah, I know how that goes. I used to get into fights with my brother, Frankie, all the time when we were kids."

Randi shot him a curious look and pointed to the faint scar on the vaguely crooked point at the bridge of her nose. "Lana, one of the ones I was always competing with, did that to me when we were teenagers. We got into an argument, and when it came to blows, well, she put me down pretty fast."

"She broke your nose? I never would have noticed. It looks fine."

"Now, it does—after a few surgeries. She also broke my left arm and two of my ribs, not to mention all the gashes and bruising. I only got off as well as I did because one of my other sibkin managed to pull her off of me," she said, now rather tired from running. _'I never did find out why Akela helped me then...'_ she thought.

Her friend still looked plenty energetic, though rather surprised at her account. "That's...pretty intense."

"She was an Elemental. A skilled Clan MechWarrior can sometimes stand up to one in a Circle of Equals, but when you get tackled by someone who outweighs you by about forty kilos, you don't have much change to fight back." She slowed to a stop and leaned back against the wall to rest.

"Sounds like you had it pretty rough growing up..." said Fred, leaning against the wall beside her.

The former Clanner nodded a little at looked back at him. "What was it like for you as a child? I've always sort of wondered how it is for Spheroids."

"Well," Fred mused, "I guess it was...pretty good. Frankie and I used to play together a lot. Tag, hide-and-seek, pretend games... I remember there was this big tree in the woods that I always used to pretend was my _Atlas. _Frankie wasn't quite as good at climbing, so he got to have the little ornamental tree that we said was a _Locust,_" he said, chuckling.

"Is he a MechWarrior, too, now?"

"Nope. He's an accountant," explained Fred. "It's a quiet, boring job with lots of math. He always liked math. It seems like we don't often have much in common, but we get along for the most part."

"That sounds nice," Randi said. "Say, why did you never mention that you had a brother, before?"

"Honestly," Fred replied, "I sorta forgot. Frankie _is_ pretty boring."

* * *

A placid smile eased over Akela's face as he stood before the view screen, awaiting the fury to come. The screen faded to life, glowing softly, and the system began to run its startup procedures. The connection information scrolled past on the screen: technical jargon that was the mysterious language meaningful and/or useful only to those who serviced these devices. For users of the system, it was simply an indication that something _was_ happening between the time the "on" light glowed green and the time the transmission began.

After a moment of this, the scrolling jargon ceased and the solid color of the screen faded to the familiar image of Helina Kerensky. Akela opened his mouth, but she was the first to speak.

"_Well?_" was the Star Colonel's short but probing question.

Her short hair was slightly matted with sweat, and her face was streaked with grease. The oil-stained tank top she wore exposed the tattoo on her left shoulder—a fierce wolf's head colored to appear as a patch of frost growing on her skin. Her atypically casual appearance made it clear that she had been in the middle of some metalworking when Akela interrupted her. It was little wonder then, that she sounded so exceedingly grouchy.

Akela gave a short chortle of a laugh, trying to soothe her anger. "It is good to see you, too."

The older woman pursed her pink lips into a thin line. "You know, I would appreciate it greatly," she said, a scathing note in her voice, "if you would address your communiques _properly_ in the future." She spoke again after a moment, when her subordinate made no remark. "You spelled my name with two L's..."

_'Hell-ina? It seemed fitting,'_ he thought to himself. Akela just smiled innocently and shrugged. "You know spelling never was my finest point..."

"Liar," she huffed. "And you have no excuse for not using the spell-check." Helina gave him a stern look. "Now, then...back to my original question..."

"I believe it was, '_Well?_'" he replied. "And the answer, dear ovKhan, is that I am working on it."

"Unacceptable. Would you give that sort of flimsy answer to the Galaxy Commander? To the kaKhan? No, you would not dare to do so, nor would you dare to sit idle. So, do not _dare_ behave that way with me!"

The younger Warrior simply nodded. "Aff, ovKhan. However, if you would allow me to expand on my previous statement, you will find that I have not been idle. You should have more faith in me, really..."

Helina seemed rather perturbed at this comment. "You know that I have faith in you, Akela. I am trusting you to act _in my stead_ on this mission. If I had any less confidence in you or your abilities, you would be back at your desk pushing papers, while I took care of this mission myself," she said. "You should consider this task a privilege."

"That I do, ovKhan," he replied. "And now to my point...it seems that I was correct in my theory that your little toy was here on Solaris. The previous holder seems to have been killed, but not before possession was transferred—either by will or by force, and more likely the latter—to another MechWarrior, a mercenary."

"And where is this mercenary? Still on Solaris?"

"No. She and her partner left a few weeks ago. I have—" Akela cut himself short at the sound of approaching footsteps in the hall, and glanced to the side to see the door slide open. Marcus eased open the door and walked into the room.

"Oh, hey," he said. "Don't mind me. I've just got some report logs to check over."

Akela nodded to the Spherer and turned back to his commander. "Ah, this is Marcus Prewitt. He's been kind enough to help me make travel arrangements, Auntie."

There was an instant of stiffness in Helina's face, startled by Akela's odd (though technically accurate) choice of address. However, her agitation was all too brief and subtle to be noticed by anyone save for those who knew her very well. She understood the game, and gave a small but warm smile. "Oh, yes... So, this is the friend that you spoke of earlier? A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Prewitt," she said, nodding towards the man.

Marcus waved casually. "Likewise," he replied simply, and then sat down at the computer on the far side of the room.

"Back to business," Helina said, addressing her subordinate again—this time in a much warmer time of voice. "When do you leave?"

"I am not yet sure of that. We are attempting to get some travel arrangements set within the next few days."

"...'We?'"

"Yes. Marcus happens to be bound for the same destination. Considering this, it seemed beneficial to travel together."

She nodded in understanding. The moment that Prewitt turned his back, she shot a blazingly fierce look to Akela. The Star Captain understood her message exactly: _"Make sure the _freebirth_ does not interfere."_

"I hope you can handle the trip without succumbing too heavily to boredom..." she said, continuing the conversation more innocuously.

Akela grinned widely. "Oh, don't worry, Auntie. I have plenty of books to keep me occupied."

"Well, then...You seem to have everything in order, so I suppose I had best not keep you from your travel preparations. I need to get back to work, as well," said Helina. Then, continuing her part flawlessly, she admonished, "Just please remember to contact me if you do need anything. You know how I get concerned for you, Nephew..."

"But, of course. I will let you know immediately if there is any trouble." He smiled warmly. "_Au revoir_, Auntie." The transmission ended at this, leaving Akela to stare ahead at the blank screen. _'Helina? Concerned? Pfft.'_ A part of him found amusement in his commander's acting skill. However, another part of him felt a little bitter over the very fact that it was acting.

"So," Prewitt said, interrupting his thoughts, "we got everything packed and ready?"

"Yes. We should head out..." Akela replied. "I contacted Quikscell earlier, and they confirmed that they have Fred Acosta's company in their employ." He rubbed his goatee in thought. "It will be close, but I think we can make it to Oliver ahead of them."

"Oh, you got that figured out already?"

"Yes. You booked our flight, correct?" the Clansman asked just a little tersely. _'This Spheroid has wasted enough of my time. Though I admit he has been useful, he has also slowed my down greatly. I feel as though he is stalling,'_ he thought to himself.

"Uh, yeah. I took care of it. So... I guess... we're ready to go?"

"Yes."

"Great..." said Marcus hesitantly. "That's...really great."


	13. Chapter 13

_Author's notes: Hellcat deserves a big round of applause on this one, folks. This is a pretty dialogue-heavy chapter, and he was a tremendous help to me in writing it._

* * *

Chapter 13

"Enjoy your trip!" gushed the clerk as she handed Akela's travel documents back to him.

The Clansman merely smiled and nodded. "Thank you," he said, slipping the papers back into his pocket. He picked up his rucksack from the scanner and slung it over his shoulder again, then began walking ahead to the DropShip.

Marcus Prewitt trailed a little behind as he passed through the check point, and put on a quick jog to catch up. As Akela glanced back over his shoulder, he could see that Prewitt looked somewhat nervous, and was following him rather closely. "So, 'Kayla, how long's this trip s'posed to last?"

"Four weeks—give or take—until we reach Oliver." He quirked at eyebrow, curious at the other man's anxiousness. "The return trip will, of course, be another four weeks."

"That's, uh, all on the ship right?"

"Yes, approximately. It might take us a bit longer if we make planetfall anywhere for supplies. I think Castor would be an ideal place to resupply, as it is a large port-of-call and we would not warrant special interest."

"And we could get some fresh air. And earth. Yeah, stopping sounds good."

"Stopping also slows us down," he replied to the Spherer matter-of-factly, as he walked up the ramp into the ship.

"But it gets so stuffy on the ships. Really, it's not healthy..." Marcus paused, pulling a flask out of his jacket, and took a quick swig.

"It's a little musty but hardly dangerous," Akela reassured him.

"What if something happens to the ship, though? Then we'd have to stop," Prewitt insisted as he followed Akela through the corridor slowly.

Akela turned his back to Marcus and rolled his eyes. "I doubt anything will happen to the ship. Besides, JumpShips don't really..._go_ anywhere once they jump, you know..." He took a seat, and fished a book out of his rucksack.

"I knew that. I... I just..." he ended lamely. Prewitt looked around quickly, took another swig of his drink, and then sat down next to Akela. "So, uh, where'd you say you're from?"

"I didn't."

"So...You're... You're an Elsie, right?"

"Mm-hm," Akela mused, paying more attention to the book than his companion.

Marcus nodded. "That aunt of yours had me thinkin' Canopian, but you're too, eh, reserved... Me, I'm from Black Hills—born and raised."

The Clansman simply nodded and let silence seep in as he read. Just as he began to forget the world around him, there was a very curt warning klaxon. The signs at the exit flashed briefly, and the doors clamped shut.

"Please fasten your seatbelts," said a woman over the intercomm. "Lift off in...one minute."

Marcus immediately grabbed hold of Akela's arm, digging his fingers into the Clansman's bicep as he looked around quickly, his face positively panicked.

"I guess this is a bad t-time to mention that I...uh...am deathly afraid of space travel," he said, shaking a little.

"Not the most ideal moment, no," Akela replied prying the man's fingers off his arm. "Perhaps it would help if you try to think of something else? Think of something pleasant to you."

Marcus let go and nodded, still visibly distraught, but a little more under control. "Right, right. Mind over matter and all that..."

The klaxon blared again. "Liftoff in ten seconds."

Beneath them, the engines burned to life like a thunderstorm balled up under the ship. As the booming crackle of the engine fire rumbled through the passenger area, Marcus nearly jumped out of his seat.

"AH!" he yelped, and grabbed Akela's arm again, eyes wide in terror. Marcus gasped, looking rather pale. "Ohh, my heart."

_'This is going to be such a _fun_ trip,'_ Akela thought sarcastically, sighing to himself as he pried Marcus's fingers away once more_._

* * *

Shielding her eyes with her palm, Randi turned her face up towards the sky. Even through the tinted sunroof over the street, she could feel the light warming her skin as the three stars of Castor hung in the sky like celestial eyes peering down at the planet. The largest of the three, a red giant, gave the sky a ruddy tint and turned the clouds a dusty rose.

The red tint filtered down to warm the bazaar-city with its countless street vendors and sprawling markets. Every street was filled with goods, music, foods, languages and above all, people. Here and there, a merchant truck or moped chugged along the streets cautiously, but the vast majority of the traffic was pedestrian.

The streets of Solaris City were often as crowded as this in some areas during the height of the day's activity, but there was typically a sense of apathy or melancholy, and sometimes, hostility. Here people seemed much more at ease, browsing the shops at their leisure, haggling over prices, enjoying the sights and sounds of the spaceport city.

As Randi stood on the street corner, contemplating the vista, she was startled by a male voice close to her ear. "Whacha doin'?"

Randi jumped a little and turned around to see Fred standing next to her. "O-oh... I was just looking around," she replied. "Why did you sneak up on me like that?"

"I wasn't sneaking, you were being inattentive."

"...Right. Well, anyway, we've got a few hours before our flight."

"Plenty of time to get something to eat. We can get some lunch and then browse for dessert. No, wait—dessert first and _then_ lunch. I smell _churros,_" he said with a grin.

"Churros? Those are those... those furry little rodents, right? The kind people keep as pets?"

Fred frowned a little. "Uh, I think you're talking about _chinchillas,_" he said. "No, this is much better. Churros are like deep-fried dough sticks with cinnamon." He motioned for her to follow and began making his way down the street.

After a couple minutes of walking, made a little slow by the crowds, Fred spotted the vendor and darted up to get a couple of churros. Randi waited a little further back, watching the people who streamed by and enjoying the music that the vendor was playing, tapping her foot to the beat.

"Heh, you like salsa music?" asked Fred as he returned and handed her one of the snacks.

"That's what it's called? I've never heard it before."

He nodded and took a bite of his churro. "Yeah. It's fun to dance to. Not that I can really dance, but..."

She chuckled a little. "If it makes you feel any better, I can't dance, either," she said. "Oh, and thanks for the chi—er, the churro. It's pretty tasty."

"Innit, though? And to think mum gave her churros recipe to Frankie and not me... I just don't understand that. It's not like I was clumsy in the kitchen or anything. Wouldn't you agree that putting the mixer at full speed would make the work go faster?"

"Uhh..."

"I mean, sure, I made a bit of a mess. But she didn't have to chase me out of the kitchen, yelling, '_Canaille!_ You are not ever allowed to touch that mixer again, Fernando!'"

Randi took several moments to eat her churros, unsure how to respond. "Well, uh... children do make mistakes," she said slowly.

"Yeah, and— Wait, did you ever make mistakes? I mean, I guess everyone does but I sorta thought that...your people weren't allowed to."

"It all depends on the mistake and who made it. Few things are a capital offense, but you can be demoted in rank—or Caste. If someone fails to accomplish the tasks assigned to them, they take a cut in their allowance. If you don't work, you don't eat, basically. It's a meritocracy."

"I see. Did you ever mess up?"

"Sometimes..." Randi said hesitantly. "Never bad enough to wash out of training or get demoted, of course. I was reprimanded a few times in the sibko."

"I'm guessing it wasn't a ruler to your knuckles, either, huh?" Fred asked as they began strolling through the market again.

"No. I got punched in the face a couple times, though. Most of the injuries I got from our trainer were in sparring matches, though. He'd rough us up if we did something dumb or smarted off, but he wasn't trying to put us in the hospital," she explained. "Of course, what he really preferred to do was give us Technician or Laborer work. That was worse torture for some than any beating..."

Fred shook his head and hooked his thumbs in his pockets. "You take this awfully lightly," he said. "Doesn't any of this...any of the stuff that happened to you as a kid, bother you? You don't act like it does."

"It was rough but...I guess I'm just grateful that I wasn't a Falcon. I really don't know for sure, but scuttlebutt on the Chatterweb has always held that they practically _torture_ their cadets," she replied quietly. "Not to sound rude, but...why do you keep asking about my past?"

"I'm sorry, Randi, I don't mean to pry or anything. I guess I just sort of realized that, well, I don't know much about you. And it's not that I don't trust you or anything. Hell, I trust you with my life, you know that."

She smiled a little and nodded. "Yeah. I trust you, too." Randi grinned and punched him in the arm lightly. "I know you'll keep me safe from all the phony Mariks out there."

"Hey, watch it with those punches, lady. I need that arm to write your checks," he said, chuckling. "So, now that we've had something to eat, what do you wanna do?"

She shrugged and smiled. "No idea. You're the worldly one here—you tell me."

"Hmm... See what's on at the theatre? Maybe there's something good showing. Or we could just watch whatever 'Immortal Warrior' sequel they've got running and have a good laugh, heh heh."

"I—" Just as Randi was about to reply, a man caught her eye in the sea of people. She snatched only the merest glimpse of him, but there was something instantly familiar about him. The déjà vu gnawed at her brain as she tried to place who he was or where she might have seen him before. _'But no one that I know would be on Castor now. ...Was it one of the Scimitars? One that I did not know very well, perhaps? No... But there was something about him...'_

"Randi?"

"Uh, yeah," she replied swiftly, Fred's voice pulling her back from the fog of her memory. "Yeah, the theatre sounds fun..." She took another anxious glance back where the man had been, then hurriedly followed after her partner.

* * *

"Randi," Akela gasped, as he turned.

He caught only a glimpse of the woman as she passed, but right away he recognized her from every individual on the street. She was unmistakable to him. As she turned to look back towards him, he ducked around behind a confections stand, just out of sight. He exhaled slowly to cool the sudden shock from his nerves, and then dove back into the crowd after her.

The Clansman barely minded any matters of the world around him, his focus narrowing down to a single target. He darted around vendor booths, and squeezed past the other pedestrians, running where he could and edging along the market stalls where he could not. With his size and strength, he could easily muscle his way through the crowd towards Randi. However, if he became aggressive, the crowd would turn hostile as well, and their reaction would warn Randi far before he reached her. He had to make this subtle, or else she and everyone else would be alerted. If that happened, the mission was lost.

Taking the slow route was already costing him, however. Randi and the man walking with her—who Akela presumed to be Acosta—were far out-pacing him. Determined not to fall behind, he risked shoving past a few people on the street until he could break into a run. The open ground did not last long, however. Ahead, the street continued down a wide stone staircase. At the top of the stairs, he could see Randi and her partner making their way past the mass of people loitering about and perusing the bazaar.

"No, no, _no_..." he muttered to himself, as he struggled to catch up. Increasingly frustrated, he turned again to force and pushed past several people to reach the stairs. By the time he managed that, however, Randi and Fred were no longer among the people gathered in the plaza at the bottom of the stairs. Where they had gone precisely was anyone's guess, as there were at least seven different alleys snaking through between the buildings.

Akela gave a frustrated grunt. "Damn." Glaring, he turned back to retrace his steps, when he spotted Marcus further down the street.

"Kayla!" the Spherer exclaimed, jogging up. "Heh, I just found something you're gonna love."

"What is it?" he asked, his scowl vanishing into hope. _'Perhaps he found where Randi is staying.'_

"Okay, so I was at this bar and I met these two gorgeous girls. Blonde hair, blue eyes, _great_ figures. So I ask 'em what they do, and they said they're strippers—and _twins_."

Never before had Akela felt so entirely dumbstruck. He felt his face contort into an amalgam of despair, frustration, and disbelief.

"Come on, they're... Uh, what's with that look?" asked Marcus. "Ohhh... I get it, you're one of _those_ guys. A boring, moral, one-girl kinda guy." He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Look, I just thought we oughtta have some fun while we're here. Might as well, anyway, since she's cheating on you with Fred."

Akela buried his face in his palms. "Why...are you going on about _strippers?!_" He looked up and glared at Marcus. "There are far, _far_ more important things right now."

"Like...?"

"I just _saw_ Randi! Here!" he exclaimed.

Marcus's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. "That means Fred's here, too! Where'd they go?!" he demanded.

"Into the plaza somewhere. I tried to follow, but the crowd cut me off and I lost sight of them."

"You lost them? How could you lose them?" Marcus sulked a little. "Well, I guess we all make mistakes. I shouldn't expect some rich kid Elsie to be much of a tracker, anyway..."

_'You think you could do better, _freebirth?_'_ Akela bit his tongue and kept this comment to himself. Aloud, he said, "I am not sure where they are at the moment, but they have to show up on Oliver eventually. We should go on and wait for them there."

"You said they'd be there in about a month or so, right? So, what's the hurry?"

Akela frowned again. "What if they decided to leave early? They could be heading for the spaceport right now. It will take us too long to get a hold of their itinerary, so the best thing we can do is leave and try to intercept them."

"Maybe... So, you really want to go, huh?"

"It is the most practical thing to do."

"Look, I just got my land legs back, and I'd like to keep 'em for a bit," said Marcus gruffly. "I've endured week after week of frikkin' _space travel_, and I need some sort of a break."

"Fine." Akela let the frustration melt from his face into a rather blasé sort of look. He shrugged lithely and turned away. "Do what you want, but I am going on ahead. I don't need you along if you're just going to procrastinate."

"Hey, now. I have to get Fred and get _my_ 'Mech back."

"How is it my problem if you're too much of a coward to go after him?"

At this, the Spherer's face turned red in anger. "I'm no coward!" he growled. "C'mon, we're going after them. ...Right after I get some booze."

"I'm leaving _now._"

"Okay, fine. We leave now."

_'You had better shape up, Marcus,'_ Akela thought to himself. _'Helina gave me very specific instructions not to let you interfere...'_


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Akela looked up from his book as he heard what had become an increasingly familiar set of footsteps approaching him, crunching through the snow. "Good evening, Marcus," he said quietly, as he looked out over to cliff to the white, sparkling plain that sloped away from him below.

It was indeed a nice evening. The temperature was just right—cool enough for snow, but not bitingly cold. Various birds chirruped and chattered in the trees, and a sweet smell lingered from the thick stand over evergreen trees nearby. It reminded him quite a bit of the Strana Mechty forests that were so familiar to him, though even in its winter, Oliver was not nearly so cold as the Clan capital.

"What's good about it?" Marcus griped, obviously not so appreciative of his surroundings as the Clansman. "We've been on this ice ball for two weeks now, and Fred _still_ hasn't shown up."

"Patience," he admonished, as he looked out over the plain. The setting sun cast a red glow on the spaceport below, reminding him of Castor. He had not stopped thinking about that encounter. For days after the fact, he had been kicking himself for allowing Randi to escape him. He had been so close, only to let her slip away. The two empty weeks on Oliver had, however, given him a clearer perspective on the matter. He now realized that it really was best that he did lose track of his sibkin.

He admitted to himself that he would not have known quite what to do if he _had_ caught up to her. Any attempt to confront Randi in the bazaar would have gone poorly but his actions then had been largely _reaction_, instead of clear planning. With this in mind, he had begun to reexamine his strategy for increased flexibility and fluidity, and ultimately developed a much more refined plan.

"Patience? Ha, you don't act like you want yer girlfriend back too badly," said Marcus, shivering a little as the chill set in on him.

"Do not confuse lack of action for lack of motivation," Akela said. "Listen, I have a new strategy... Less shooting, more talking."

"Eh? What're you planning?"

The Star Captain smiled. "The plan is simple... I will deal with Fred and Randi, and you will provide support."

Marcus frowned sternly. "Support? I've got a _Dragon_, not a friggin' _Yeoman_. What the 'ell do you mean you're gonna 'deal with' those two, anyway? You've only got a _Puma!_ I know that's Clantech—lucky dog—but it ain't gonna win you a fight." He then muttered something almost under his breath about spoiled rich kids.

Akela sighed and returned to reading. "I mean exactly what I said."

"But—"

"_I'll handle it_," he reiterated. "Just be ready with your 'Mech when I need you."

* * *

Randi yawned tiredly as the chiming of her alarm stirred her from a cozy sleep. After spending all of the previous day unloading supplies from the DropShip—in a mild but very cold snowstorm—she had been extremely relieved to retire to a warm bed. Though Quickscell had given them little help in unloading, they had at least prepared a residence building for the mercenaries. It certainly was not a luxury apartment, but it was clean and well-maintained if a little sparse. Most of all, though, it was neither drafty nor cold.

Quikscell had also provided some basic winter-weather gear to them: boots, gloves, goggles, and thick coats. The more important provisions of maps, satellite data, and security details had all been worked out previously, and there was nothing left but to begin active duty.

Knowing that today was a day that required waking at a decent hour, Randi sat up reluctantly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She yawned again as she slid out of bed and started to dress. Though she was still a little tired from the pack mule work yesterday, she was also glad to be returning to the field. The last couple of months had been pretty slow and pretty quiet, which was in a way, rather good but also rather boring.

Today, though, there was no cause for worry. They were beginning a new contract, _Nyx_ was in good repair (though lacking a few weapons systems), and from the delicious smells wafting in from the kitchen, it seemed that somebody was making pancakes. She smiled as she rolled out the stiffness in her shoulders and walked still barefoot down to the kitchen.

"Hm. So," she could heard Fred saying, "do you happen to cook?"

Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, she barely heard a light grunt of, "No," that came in reply to Fred's question.

"Too bad. I was hoping somebody around here would know how to make ropa veja, y'know? But it's all bratwurst and wiener schnitzel with the Lyrans," Fred grumbled. Then more cheerfully, he queried, "More syrup?"

Randi slowed a little. That second voice seemed familiar. Then again, it was probably just paranoia more than real familiarity. She shrugged and rounded the corner.

"Oh! Randi!" Fred greeted her happily. "I wondered when you were gonna get outta bed and help me eat these pancakes," he said with a chuckle.

Across from Fred was a tall brunet man sitting with his back to her, and leaning a bit over the table as he ate. Randi looked from her friend to the stranger and then slowly leaned to the side a bit, trying to get a look at his face. _'Is that...? It..._cannot_ be...'_ she thought, fusing her brow a little.

The man laid his silverware down and sat up straight, then turned, draping one arm over the back of his chair. "Good morning," he said with a genteel smile as he looked up at her.

She stumbled back with a gasp, eye wide, and quickly grabbed the edge of the counter to balance herself. The first thing that raced, bleeding through her brain was quite distressing, for she could have sworn that this stranger was the murdered Ulric Kerensky. He looked so like the dead Khan, though much younger than she had ever seen the man.

In the split seconds it took to regain her balance, however, her brain reexamined the information. This was not Ulric's ghost here to haunt her for her disgrace and enjoy some pancakes. No, the situation was far, far worse.

"This is our new tac officer," said Fred, "Akela Kerr."

The said party smiled cheerily, his amber eyes showing nothing but calm. Randi scowled in return and brushed herself off quickly. "You!" she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. "What are _you_ doing here?"

He stood, now looking down at her from a good several centimeters. "Trying to find some work," he replied calmly. "Commander Acosta was kind enough to invite me to breakfast while we discussed the matter of my employment."

She just looked back at him with a hard, critical gaze. Akela stood with a rather nonchalant stance, not at all like the commanding and proper Warrior posture she knew him to normally keep, nor was he wearing anything particularly striking—just a simple pair of blue jeans and a tee shirt with a slightly worn vest. His hair was no longer shaved at the temples in the standard MechWarrior cut, but a medium length, even all the way around if a bit mussy. He had not changed a great deal in the nearly three years since she last saw him, except for these superficial aspects.

As she eyed him, she slid her hand up along his jaw line over the short beard he now sported; he had always been clean-shaven before. Now, she knew who the man at the bazaar was—the facial hair had simply thrown her off. "What is this?" she asked, giving his beard a rough tug.

Akela winced, then pushed her hand away lightly and rubbed his chin. "It is a goatee," he replied, frowning as he stated the obvious.

"It makes you look..."

"Like _him?_" He chuckled and slid his hands into his pockets with a shrug. He lowered his voice a bit and gave her a sly grin, much like an ornery child. "You should have seen Helina's face the first time I walked into her office like this. I cannot remember how many times that day she called me Ulric by mistake."

At another time, Randi might have laughed at the thought of seeing the Star Colonel so dumbfounded. Right now, however, she was too preoccupied for what rusty sense of humor she had to function. She pushed past Akela and walked over to Fred, who was setting his plates in the sink. She grabbed him by the arm and pulled him after her out into the hall.

"Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, freeing himself from her grip.

Randi peered back around the corner into the dining room. Akela now stood at the sink, oblivious to her. He was actually _washing_ the dishes, a Laborer task.

Something was definitely wrong here.

"I do not like this," she said returning her gaze to Fred. "Do you _know_ who that is?"

"Well, he said his name was—"

She sighed in frustration. "Obviously not," she muttered. "Akela... He is my sibkin."

"Oh, so he's—um, pardon the analogy—your brother?"

That sent a bit of a sickening shiver through her, but she knew Fred did not mean the term as insult or offense. She nodded. "Yes, he was one of the few who graduated with me," she said. "That is why you must get rid of him—now."

"Hm, y'know, I wouldn't have pegged him for a Clanner. Seems too...nice. Er, no offense to you," he said quickly. "Really, I'd think you'd be happy to see a familiar face. But like I said, he seems like a decent fellow to me. Granted, I can't figure out why he'd want a tac ops position if he's a MechWarrior..."

She gave a snort of disbelief and shook her head. "Fred, look at me," she said putting her hands on his shoulders. "I am a killer. For the first twenty-three years of my life, I was part of Clan Wolf, which frequently _kills things_. I am genetically engineered to have the best genes possible for _killing things_. I have been trained since birth to be a MechWarrior, so I can _kill things_ extra good." She felt like she was talking to a child. "Akela is, like me, a trueborn MechWarrior from Clan Wolf. What do you suppose _he_ does?"

"Pfft. Anybody who likes pancakes can't be all bad. It's crepe-lovers who are evil," Fred joked as Randi dropped her hands. "In all seriousness, though, doesn't that mean we want him around? The trick is gonna be convincing him to work for us as a MechWarrior, so he can put all those killing skills to good use."

"What he wants to kill is _me!_" she yelped. Fred just gave her a confused, and slightly concerned look. She felt her face flush as she hesitantly admitted, "I, uh... Well, I kind of forgot to mention that I am... ahem, probably _dezgra_."

"Or he wants the schematics you have," observed Fred in a whispered tone. He rubbed his chin in thought. "Well, I could send him away, but... I think I'll have him stick around."

"What?!" Randi hissed.

"Look, Akela's probably a fairly clever person, right? That means that he would _expect_ us to figure out why he's here. If he wanted to be sneaky, he wouldn't allow you to find out he was around. There's some reason he is out in the open like this, and I want to know what it is. I say we _let_ him stick around, so we can find out exactly what he's up to."

"I can't believe you," Randi sputtered. "I can't believe you aren't going to do anything about this. Well, if you won't, _I_ will. I cannot stay here waiting for him to kill me," she said, turning to go pack her things.

Fred grabbed her arm as she turned to hurry off, stopping her. "Randi... Now look at me," he said brushing a few loose strands of hair away from her face as she turned back towards him. "I figure this is a case where we're damned if we do, and damned if we don't. Personally, I'd rather fight my enemies face-to-face than try to run from something I can't see. But no matter what happens, he's going to have to go through me if he has any intention of hurting you."

"You say that so easily... You have never fought him," she said a little coldly.

Her partner frowned, looking a little hurt by that remark, but quickly changed his expression and the direction of the conversation. "Look, we're not even sure why he's here yet. For all we know, he might be telling the _truth_. What if he got booted out or separated from the Clan? Or taken prisoner and then released, like you?"

"I know Akela. He has nothing but contempt for mercenaries. He would never join a merc unit without some ulterior motive."

"Uh-huh. And I suppose you were always A-OK with mercs?" Fred countered.

Randi frowned this time. She wasn't convinced that Akela was not a threat, but Fred did have a very good point. Perhaps her sibkin _was_ being honest. _'I doubt it, though,'_ she thought to herself still. _'Akela is a manipulative bastard. Always was and always will be.'_ She followed Fred back into the kitchen reservedly.

"My apologies for that, Mr. Kerr. I had to discuss a small business matter with my partner," Fred explained, nodding his head towards Randi.

Akela just nodded politely. "No need to apologize. I understand entirely," he said. "I can see you have some questions about my sincerity. Again, that's understandable. Especially since, I must admit, I have... not been entirely honest with you."

Fred just raised his eyebrows a little, but Randi's eyes held an eager spark like an animal ready and waiting to pounce on wounded prey.

"My name... is actually Akela _Kerensky_," he said. "Though I make no excuses for the lie, I'm sure you can understand my reasoning. That's a dangerous name to have these days."

_'Freebirth!'_ Randi cursed mentally. _'He won his bloodname...'_

That was one significant difference between the man before her now and her unblooded sibkin Akela Wolf. The name was more than just a title, it was a badge of honor, and testament of spirit and strength, and a promise that future generations would benefit from the genes of the Clan's very finest Warriors. A price was paid in blood for each and every individual legacy, giving double-meaning to the term. She wondered how many other Warriors Akela had to kill in order to call himself a Kerensky.

It stung her to know that he had gained a bloodname—the ultimate honor among the Clans and an honor she could never have. She had now and always to be content to call herself Greene, a contrived surname she neither inherited nor won, rather than the Sender bloodname she had always desired. She wondered if Akela brought this matter up to hurt and taunt her, and gave him a very cold look.

"So, I take it you would prefer to go by 'Kerr', then?" asked Fred, unaware of the turmoil on Randi's face as she stood behind him.

"If that would be alright," Akela said with a nod. "If I'm going to be killed, I'd rather it not be over something as trivial as my name."

Randi glared at him now. She was positive that his last comment was meant for her. "Where's your _Adder?_" she demanded abruptly, changing the subject. She doubted that he had a different 'Mech if he had one at all; that light chassis had always been his favorite thing to pilot.

"Hm? Oh, you mean the _Puma?_" he replied, using the InnerSphere name as if the Clan designation hadn't been immediately familiar to him. "I have it with me. However, as I explained to Commander Acosta, I would prefer to remain in a tac ops position rather than a direct combat role."

"I think that will work out for the time being, at least," said Fred. He looked back at Randi, who had by this time regained her composure. "We really could use someone on tac ops, after all... And, uh, can we drop all this 'commander' business? It's makin' me feel like a bloody social general."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Akela leaned back in his chair casually as Randi took a seat across the table from him and proceeded to glare. Fred sat down next to her, seeming much more at ease, though there was a subtle quality in his movements that showed he was still alert. Both of the two MechWarriors were still suspicious of their new hire, and all the more so because of his position as their tac ops man.

He could see on Randi's face that she was busy calculating that prospect. If he wanted the two mercenaries dead, he would have only to "misdirect" them into the jaws of an enemy force. He knew that this prospect was still less worrisome to his sibkin than the thought of him going into the field with them. True, his dependable _Puma_ was ten tons lighter than even the smallest of their 'Mechs, but with its speed and dual PPCs, and a little ruthlessness on his own part, Akela could decapitate Randi's 'Mech—and possibly Acosta's, too—and escape. Fortunately for the two mercenaries, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

Glancing back to Randi, he smiled pleasantly, and then looked over to Fred as he awaited the start of the briefing.

"Well... Hmm," Fred began, obviously feeling a little awkward at having a third party present, "I think the _Bushwacker_ would be good for this mission, Randi. We won't be moving too fast, and if we run into resistance, the extra firepower will be useful," he said to his partner. Then turning towards the Clansman he asked, "And, Akela, I assume you know what you're doing?"

He merely gave a nod in return as he laid several paper maps down on the table, each showing satellite imagery or topographical features of various portions of the mission area, and spread them out for the others to see. Turning around, he switched on the video display, which Randi and Fred had either failed to notice or declined to use, and brought up the high-resolution satellite image of the full mission area.

"I take that as a 'yes'..." Fred said quietly.

Akela smirked a little, turning to face the display, and picked up the tablet device connected to it. Behind him, he could hear Randi mutter, "Show-off," but ignored her.

"This, as you can see," he began, "is the expected mission zone. I realize it is rather large compared to the route, but I will address that in a moment." A red line appeared on the screen as he drew with the tablet, outlining a paved road. "This shows the predefined convoy route used by Quikscell. It is entirely paved and fairly linear—almost a straight shot from nav Alpha," he said, marking a small "A" at the start point, "to the main spaceport for the continent of Gaineshi. The trip is fairly quick, lasting only about one hour. The problem, however, is that it is Quikscell's primary—i.e. _only_—route to the spaceport...and it runs through a tunnel. All an attacker needs to stop that convoy is a little heads up and a couple of LRM salvos."

Fred nodded, looking up at the map. "Well, it looks like you've really done your homework. There's been no report of enemy activity recently, so I think we should be in the clear. Unless someone here is a spy."

"Yes, because a spy would most definitely inform you about this grievous flaw in Quikscell's plans," Akela muttered. He began drawing on the tablet again, this time marking a slightly snaking green line over an area of low hills and flat land. "I would like to propose this as an alternative route. None of this area is paved but the convoy should be able to traverse it, albeit less quickly. The hills will slow you down a bit, though for the most part this runs through open sub-tundra. While there is not much cover here compared to the forested area of the road, there is plenty of room to maneuver and a clear line-of-sight for quite a distance in good weather. This would also allow you to utilize your long-range weaponry, like the _Hellhound's_ light gauss, to its maximum efficiency, and hold attackers away from the convoy."

Fred appeared to ponder this information for a moment, then looked over at Randi. "Maybe the _Shadow Cat_ would be better, after all. The speed might be good, too, since won't be traveling a road, and the jumpjets might come in handy if we run into any snowdrifts."

Randi's scowl had gradually faded as her focus shifted to the mission. "So, what _is_ the weather going to be like?"

"It looks clear for now," replied Akela, "but that could change. Satcomm reports for the past month have shown a pattern of sudden winter storms which, while short, can be mild or severe for their duration. As a precaution, I suggest we all assume this to be the norm for Oliver's winter season. You also need to be careful of any fissures or pits that may be hidden by snow and ice."

"Everything considered, I think the alternate route is the best option. Anything else?" asked Fred.

"That is all," Akela said, gathering up the maps. "The convoy rolls out at 0900 hours sharp, from nav Alpha. I will contact the convoy leader and try to negotiate the new route, while you two prepare for departure."

"Good idea. I'll leave you to that, then." Fred put a hand on Randi's shoulder as she turned to follow him. "I'll have Harrison give the 'Mechs a once-over before we leave, just to make sure everything is okay. Wouldn't want to get stuck out in the snow because of some faulty systems," he said, glancing back over his shoulder at Akela briefly. "Oh, I almost forgot. Mr. Kerr is going to need a callsign."

Akela looked up from the maps to see Randi grinning at him in a rather evil manner. "Uh, perhaps—"

"_Fox?_" Randi suggested, cutting him off.

Fred gave her an inquisitive look then nodded. "Okay, 'Fox' it is."

"Yes, sir." The Clansman sighed as the two mercenaries walked off to the hangar. Ever since their childhood, Randi had loved to tease him with the nickname of "Big Fox," after the epithet given to a storybook wolf who shared his name.

It amused _her_ to no end, but he found it rather irritating. In the culture of the Clans—largely due to the institution of bloodnames—to have more than a single name was considered odd, if not _chalcas_. He also knew that in giving him this nickname, Randi was implying that he was not a Wolf at all, but a fox—a trickster, rather than a Warrior.

_'A trickster, perhaps,'_ Akela thought to himself, _'but not one without claws and fangs...'_

* * *

Even with the hangar doors shut fast, some of the winter chill still crept inside the MechBay. Randi sat on a crate, already dressed in her mission gear—a cooling vest, shorts, and boots—with the neuro-helmet sitting on her lap. She rubbed her bare arms and thighs a little for warmth and shivered as she continued waiting. Looking up to the _Shadow Cat_, (now painted with wide streaks of off-white over its previous camouflage), she could see that Ned and Harrison were still inspecting it.

"Hey," said Fred as he walked over, also dressed in his mission gear, and took a seat next to her, shivering as well. "H-how're you holding up?" He blew onto his hands and rubbed his palms together quickly.

"I am a little chilly, but it is not too bad."

Her partner frowned a little. "I, uh, was talking about Akela."

Randi looked a little more unsure at this. "I do not trust him." She shook her head. "However... I do not think he is lying to us about the convoy routes."

Fred nodded, contemplating this for a moment. "Say, Randi," he asked, looking up at the 'Mechs, "has Akela ever had to work on BattleMechs before?"

"He has a moderate amount of experience. Like most MechWarriors he can make his own minor field repairs. He is also familiar with the omni weapons pod systems."

"Hm, he won't be easy to trick like the cadets were... Hehheh, I was hoping I could give him some dumb 'errands' to keep him occupied, so he would be too busy to cause us trouble. Guess I'll just have to think of something else."

By this time, the Techs had finished their work and climbed off of the 'Mech onto the catwalk that run alongside it. "All clear," Harrison yelled down to the MechWarriors. "There's still some faulty wiring in the MASC system that we haven't been able to get at, but everything else looks good."

"Thank you, both," Randi replied to the Techs. She breathed a sigh of relief, and stood. "That makes me feel a lot better."

"Heh, me, too." Fred stood with her, holding his neuro-helmet. "I'd hate to lose you."

She smiled. "I would hate to lose you, too. We make a good team."

The corners of his mouth seemed to jerk into a frown for just an instant, but that expression quickly morphed into a faint smile. "Yeah..."

"Uh, are you okay...? Your face is looking kind of red."

"Wha— Oh. I-it's just the cold," he said. "We'd better get up to our 'Mechs where it's warm."

Randi nodded and walked over to the _Shadow Cat_, quickly scaling the ladder, and climbed up into the cockpit. She then strapped herself in, put on the neuro-helmet, started up the 'Mech, and plugged in her cooling vest; the last action brought with it a most unpleasant sensation of bitter cold over her torso. She gasped uncomfortably as her chest muscles tightened, constricting her breathing for a moment in response to the drop in temperature. As the _Cat_ began to warm up, however, the chill vanished, and the constricted sensation with it. The cockpit now had that familiar constant, ambient heat and the scent of warm dust.

Taking the joysticks and throttling up slowly, she pushed the _Cat_ away from the hangar racks, and out onto the floor. The bay doors yawned opened, revealing an expanse of white ground riddled with patches of a very persistent vetch-like evergreen that poked through the snow. Fred's _Hellhound_ passed beside her and trotted out the door towards nav Alpha. She fell in after him, keeping a single-file formation.

"Fox, this is...Dingo," she heard Fred say as the comm lit up. "We are en route to nav Alpha."

"_Dingo?_" Randi asked over the private channel.

"What? I just figured I'd try to keep in theme here..." he replied.

"Acknowledged, Dingo," said Akela. "Be advised, I just finished talking to the convoy lead, designation 'Shepherd.' She insists upon keeping to the original route."

"What did she say?"

"She continues to affirm that Quikscell has never had a problem with the current route and that we should 'not fix something what ain't broke.' Quite the stubborn personality..."

Fred chuckled. "Is this your first time dealing with Quikscell? They seem to hire the _nicest_ people, huh?"

"Yes. A wonderful first impression," Akela replied sarcastically. "Oh, and, Dingo, I think I should warn you that Shepherd is not only the convoy leader, but the commander of the guardian _Vedette's_ crew."

"Alright, so I'll make sure to protect everything but _that_," he said, chuckling again. "Thanks for the update, Fox."

"Quite. Over and out."

As the two 'Mechs approached their nav, they could distinguish the convoy from the snow. At the head of it was a single _Vedette_ medium tank, just as Akela had warned, followed by three LRM-carriers, three SRM-carriers, and two cargo trucks. Now within 200 meters, the comm crackled with a female voice.

"Shepherd, here. I don't know if you mercs are gettin' paid by-the-hour or something, but I'm gonna tell you now: I do not want any more discussion about changing routes. _I_ am in charge of this convoy. You two are just our rent-a-cops," she said. "Now, we already had to delay a few times this month because somebody _thought_ they possibly saw a_ Chevalier_, and I don't want to be responsible for getting this convoy behind schedule again. We clear?"

"Yeah, she'll be fun to work with..." Fred muttered over the private line. On the general frequency he said, "We're crystal, Shepherd. Ah, this is Dingo, by the way. My partner's callsign is Black Wolf, and you already spoke with Fox."

"So, that's your whole crew? Not even an entire lance of 'Mechs?"

"No..."

"Ah, that figures. Any questions before we head out?"

"Uh, you mentioned a _Chevalier_. That'll be something to watch for, I assume. It's a...light tank, isn't it? Hover?"

"Tracked," she replied. "Like I said, it's a rumor and not a very good one. Truth is, I think the bosses are a little paranoid about Kali-Yama lately. Keep an eye out for hostiles, but don't be surprised if nothing shows up. Now, let's move out. I'll let you two fight over who gets vanguard."

The two mercenaries simply took their positions in silence; they knew each other and their 'Mechs well enough to determine that without a word between them. In the rear portion of the viewscreen arc, Randi could see _Beowulf_ torso-twisting from side to side as Fred moved his BattleMech around to trail the convoy. "Dang, it looks cold out there. Makes me glad I'm in a 'Mech..."

"We will be finished soon enough."

Randi took stock of their surroundings as they departed from nav Alpha and headed down the road. The day was clear, with the sun climbing through the blue, cloudless sky towards its apex. She could hear the muffled but steady pounding of the Shadow Cat's feet against the pavement, as she trotted to the front of the convoy at a cruising pace and fell into line.

Up ahead, she could see the fingers of a low mountain range rising up from the flat land. It was a geologically old feature, evidenced by the smooth and rounded ridge line; newer mountain ranges showed a far more jagged topography until millennia of erosion wore on it. The sides of the mountains were mostly a yellowish-green color of dying grass between the thick clusters of evergreen trees, with scattered bits of white clinging to the slopes and thickening up towards the peaks. As far as Randi could see, the road continued straight ahead into the little jut of mountains that intersected it, just as Akela had told them. She toggled her HUD display from radar to map view, comparing the satcomm information to the terrain before her.

The trip would have been far less than an hour if not for the slow speed of the tanks. Randi was quite sure that the convoy vehicles had all set their throttles to "mosey." Whenever she had been on escort duty in the Clan, she preferred to have a light or medium 'Mech, (typically the Wolves' favored _Fenris_), running ahead of the main body as a scout, while the other members of the unit stayed close to the convoy. She was rather tempted to elect herself to a scouting role, but ultimately decided to remain close to the vehicles and let the active probe do the work for her.

She did forfeit using the autopilot, however, and continued scanning the area as they moved. The trip was rather long but they arrived at the tunnel, or nav Beta as the map said, on schedule. The way looked clear, as it had since the beginning, but Randi was still skeptical. "Fox, this is Black Wolf. Anything on satcomm?"

"Negative, Black Wolf," he replied a little disinterestedly. "I will inform you if any new information becomes available, when it becomes available. Any problems?"

"No. No, everything is fine... Over." She brought her 'Mech to a stop a few meters before the entrance of the ferro-crete lined, 'Mech-sized tunnel, and inspected the interior and what she could see of the other side using the _Cat's_ zoom optics. She turned to face the convoy. "Shepherd, this is Black Wolf. The tunnel looks clear, but I recommend we do a sweep of the area before proceeding."

"Seriously, are you two paid hourly? 'Cause you're slowing us down. You've got an active probe, right, Black Wolf?"

"Yes."

"And what does it say?"

"...There is nothing on scope," Randi replied. "But—"

"That's good enough for me. Convoy, keep rolling." With that, the _Vedette_ trundled past her 'Mech and into the mountain tunnel.

"Relax a little, Randi," Fred advised, as he stood watch opposite her. He turned his 'Mech a little to scan the road behind them.

The ex-Clanner shifted a little in her 'Mech and watched as two of the LRM carriers followed Shepherd slowly. Randi opened her mouth to reply to her partner, but before she could speak, a thunderous crack echoed from inside the tunnel. All three tanks seemed to jump with the noise, as a plume of orange-red fire and thick, black smoke burst from the vehicles. When the three flaming carcasses landed, still billowing oily smoke, another explosion ruptured the ferro-crete shell which held back the mountain. A massive cascade of rock, dirt, and reinforcement beams crashed down to the ground, burying the tanks and shaking the ground. The _Shadow Cat_ leaned heavily as the shock wave rumbled through it.

Randi held the joysticks tighter, maintaining her balance, and turned the OmniMech to face away from the massive cloud of dust spewing forth. She could hear a cacophony of rocks and other debris pelting her armor.

"No, no, no!" Fred exclaimed desperately over the static-ridden open channel, followed by several foreign words that, to her ears, became only a quick and muddled flow of syllables. "Shepherd! Come in, Shepherd! Do you read?! Convoy One and Two, respond! ...Dammit, respond!"

Having regained her bearings, Randi quickly trotted further away from the collapsed tunnel and began scanning the area for hostiles. "Freebirth," she muttered. "Fred, I think we have lost the _Vedette_..."

"How many carriers, and who hit them?"

"Two. That was not enemy fire, though," she said, peering through the smoke as it settled. "There was an explosion _under_ the tanks, and then the roof of the tunnel caved. There must have been pressure-sensitive mines buried in there; the charge only detonated once there were three vehicles inside... Whoever laid those mines was trying to maximize the number of vehicles they destroyed."

"Looks like Quikscell was right to be a paranoid..." Fred said slowly. "Fox, this is Dingo. Get us some support out here ASAP. The tunnel was booby-trapped with anti-tank mines. The _Vedette_ and two LRM-carriers just got buried under several tons of mountain."

"Copy that, Dingo. I will contact Quikscell and request rescue and excavation assistance," he replied evenly.

"Hey, don't sound so calm about this!" Fred barked. "That's nine people dead or trapped there!"

"I realize that, but getting emotional over this is not going to help anyone. Now, I suggest that you focus on the convoy vehicles which have _survived_, and continue the route. Whoever set those mines will probably arrive fairly soon to finish off the carriers," Akela said. "Check your satellite map. I am uploading a new set of nav points which will lead you around the mountain and back to the road. Follow this route, and contact me if you need anything else. Fox, out."

Randi looked down at her HUD again and examined the new path that Akela had made. "Copy that... Fred?"

"Yeah...Let's...just move out," he said, sounding rather upset. He turned and plodded down the road towards the first nav.

Just as Randi began to follow him, she heard a familiar beep from her console, and then a second. "Enemy detected," said the computer.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

"Freebirth..." Randi cursed aloud as the computer displayed the designations of the new radar contacts: a _Goblin_ medium tank, and a 65-ton _Patton_. "Fred!" she barked, not bothering with the call-signs, "contact! Two hostile tanks! One _Patton_ at seven hundred meters, bearing one-niner-niner, and a _Goblin_ at six hundred meters, bearing zero-seven-four and moving on your position." She stomped on the throttle pedals, dashing around the mountain ridge that separated her from the convoy.

"_Kuso!_" Fred growled, turning the torso of his _Hellhound_ quickly to locate the bandits. As he 'Mech scanned back and forth, a stream of LRMs smashed into his 'Mech's torso from above, pouring over the mountain ridge like a cascade. Before he could entirely recover, the bluish-white _Goblin_, barreling towards the convoy full-speed, swept its large laser across his right arm, melting armor off the light gauss rifle like hot butter.

The gauss rifle quickly became Fred's greatest concern. Not only was it his primary weapon, but if the gun took critical damage, it would explode and take a portion of his 'Mech's side out with it. The _Hellhound_ turned its torso away from the weapons fire quickly, almost bowing, as it tried to weather the attackers' beatings.

Randi turned her sights on the _Goblin_, keeping the targeting reticule steady as the vehicle moved in to attack the convoy. As it raced down the slope of the hill to her right, sending up a flurry of snow and rock, the steady ring of a missile sounded in her cockpit. She quickly squeezed the trigger, and sent a burst of her LRM-15s at the approaching medium tank. The _Goblin_ veered sharply as it could to avoid the missiles, but a good majority of them crashed down on its hull, clawing off its armor. That bought a little time for Fred and the Carriers.

"Convoy! Open fire, NOW! SRM Carriers, move to engage the _Goblin!_ LRM Carriers, take the _Patton!_" she ordered sharply. Not wasting a moment, she hit her jumpjets and began scaling the hill.

"Uh...M-ma'am?" a man answered her order hesitantly. "We don't...have any ammo..."

"They send these things out _empty?!_" Randi spat a few Clan curses at Quikscell, under her breath. "Just keep moving full-speed, and stay en route!" She changed the comm channel back to her partner. "It looks like the carriers are useless—they have no ammo. I am going to try to go after the _Patton_."

He turned his 'Mech, running in a wide arc to cut off the other tank. "Copy. I'll care of the _Goblin_," Fred replied. Randi could hear the distinct noise of a gauss rifle slug leaving the barrel, and glanced off to the side just in time to see a burst of armor spray from the _Goblin_ under the impact of the shot. Her partner clearly had the upper hand in that fight. The large laser could do more damage than his light gauss, but _Beowulf's_ speed made it easy for Fred to stay out of its range. In a mere duel, the outcome would be obviously in favor of the BattleMech, but the convoy changed the equation.

Her attention quickly left the _Goblin_, when another rain of LRM-5s pummeled one of the SRM Carriers and a spray of A/C 10 fire raked across the side of another. _Pattons_ were very slow, but the long range weapons they possessed made great speed redundant when attacking the much slower, and utterly defenseless convoy vehicles.

Randi pressed her back into the command couch, as she prepared for another hop up the side of the mountain, and shifted her weight forward slightly. As the _Cat_ leaned with her, she tapped on the jumpjets again. The 45-tonner rose for a moment, then began to fall again, leaving her stomach to lag behind on the landing, and finally hit the ground again with a slightly jarring thud. She pushed the pedals a little, moving her 'Mech's feet to gain purchase in the slick, icy mountainside. One of the _Shadow Cat's_ bird-like feet began to slide backwards, but Randi pumped the pedals quickly, causing the 'Mech to paw at the ground until it regained its footing.

She had to keep moving until she found a more solid place to stand—preferably a place where she could get a good sight on that _Patton_. Even now, she could not even catch the merest glimpse of its turret. She did, however, see a salvo of LRM-5s arc over a ridge above of her.

"Oh, no..." she gasped aloud.

From the corner of her eye, she could see the missiles dip down through the air and finally slam into one of the SRM carriers, gutting the machine. Fire spewed out from its side where the missiles had impacted it. She stomped on the jumpjets again, holding the thrust until the 'Mech reached its maximum apex. From this height, she could spot the brown-and-white camouflaged _Patton_ as it sat nestled in its rocky perch. Lining up her crosshairs as the _Shadow Cat_ began its descent, she fired off both of her LRM-15s. Just as soon as the missiles left their tubes, she switched to her ER medium lasers to stab further into the armor. The a good percentage of the hastily fired slew of missiles found their mark on the tank, but many also peppered the ground around it. Both of the laser shots went too wide, stabbing through the empty air above the vehicle.

The LRMs managed to strip away quite a bit of the _Patton's_ armor. The tough 65-tonner was not ready to give up the fight yet. The other sections of its hull still retained plenty of armor, and its weapons were still functional. Though it took the Shadow Cat just a few seconds to descend, that was plenty of time for the tank to take advantage of its vulnerability. The turret swung around and, before Randi could so much as gasp, a muzzle flash lit the end of the barrel.

The AC/10 round struck the left arm of the 'Mech, shredding the armor over its shoulder, and slapped it back into gravity's control. Randi had only enough time to brace her nerves for the coming shock as her view of the world rotated suddenly. The side of the 'Mech's feet hit the slope first, and Randi could hear one of the actuators starting to break. Too soon, the rest of the _Cat_ met with the mountain, its right side smashing down into the icy ground. The damaged right arm, with the shoulder stripped of its armor, buckled under the weight of the rest of the chassis, and twisted away with a noise somewhere between a a scream, a whine, and a fender-bender. While Randi was still being jostled around, thankful that the harness kept her from exiting via the cockpit glass, the _Shadow Cat_ continued its unfortunate trip down the slope. It slid along on its side for about 10 meters, carving a trench in its wake, until the friction and hard ground stole its momentum. The 'Mech creaked and tilted as it stopped, again shaking her roughly.

"RANDI!" Fred cried, sounding truly panicked. "Randi, are you okay?!"

Randi closed her eyes and groaned a little, trying hard to get a good breath with the harness straps compressing her chest. She reached up, still dizzy, and slid her hand up to loosen one of the buckles. As she began to regain her bearings, though, she realized that the tightness of the straps was due to the pull of gravity—she was, for all intents, "hammocked" in the harness, face down. Somewhere along the way, the 'Mech had turned over from its side onto its front.

"Y-yeah," she replied. She gripped the harness straps and lifted herself up a little bit to speak better. "The _Patton_ knocked me down in mid-jump. It got one of the SRM carriers."

"So, you're okay? Are you sure?"

"Yes. Heh, I just need to get _Franken-Cat_ back on its feet," she said, trying to ease her partner's concern with a little joking. The only thing she could see out of the cockpit window was dirt and snow, but in the viewscreen, she could see the _Hellhound_ moving towards her. The image was somewhat odd, because she was face-down—the _Hound_ looked as though it was moving on its side—but she could get a better idea of its location from her radar screen.

"Alright..." Fred replied hesitantly. He sounded unconvinced, but she could tell from the familiar sound of a gauss rifle shot that he was still pursuing the bandits.

She coughed, trying again to draw a deep breath, and looked down at her systems status. The 'Mech was in good shape, overall. The right arm, however, was completely gone; that cut out one of her LRM-15s and a medium laser. The right side of the 'Mech was smashed up a bit, and the right torso showed some light to superficial superficial damage. The right ankle of the 'Mech was very damaged. That damaged joint was going to be the biggest problem if she wanted to get the _Cat_ up off its belly.

With as deep a breath as she could manage, she brought the left arm down for balance, and pawed the 'Mech's feet at the ground a little. The right foot kept slipping feebly, but the left foot found solid ground. Randi continued moving the right foot until she could get it at least planted flat on the ground, and hoped that the joint would not buckle while she tried to stand.

Another spray of missiles raked the rear armor of the _Shadow Cat_, rocking the 'Mech as she began to gain some footing. Immediately the armor indicator for that section dropped from a bright green down to a bloody red as the missiles nearly punched through the thinly plated ferro-fibrous. Randi braced herself, shoving her back into the command couch, and stomped down on the pedals again. With a good push of the left arm, she managed to stand uneasily, leaning her weight on the undamaged foot of the 'Mech.

Slowly, she took a few limping steps to turn and face the mountain. She knit her brow a little anxiously, anticipating another missile salvo to slap across the center torso of her 'Mech. Taking a hit to the front was definitely better than giving the _Patton_ another shot at her rear armor, though. Off to her right, she saw spotted Fred still tangling with the Goblin. It slashed its large laser across his center torso, but before it could do any further damage, he buried his C-STRKs into its chassis.

A moment later, as anticipated, another salvo did crest over the ridge. However, this time it was not Randi that the tank targeted but the last LRM carrier. The missiles took a good chunk of the vehicle's armor, shoving it sideways on the road, but it resumed its course as quickly as the crew could reorient themselves from the blast.

"Dingo," Randi said, tapping the comm. "I think the _Patton_ is a bigger problem now. You will have to take care of it. I cannot climb up the slope after all the damage I took on this foot. I cannot use my jumpjets either, and risk a hard landing."

"Copy that. You can fend off the _Goblin_, right?"

"Yes."

With that, the _Hellhound_ did a quick turn and strafed around the mountainside, looking for a good shot at the _Patton_. "At least all of the trucks are okay."

"I can see them at the edge of my radar. They are out of range of the _Patton's_ LRMs, now. I doubt it will follow after us—its low speed would make it vulnerable down here. Should I tell them to stop?"

"Yeah, we can't have them getting too far ahead." He continued to pace for some time, before finally deciding that it was a futile effort to try and reach the tank with his _Hellhound_. While the standard configuration of the second-liner sported six standard jump jets, he had stripped them out to make room for the light gauss. Even from the way his 'Mech moved, she could tell that Fred was unhappy about leaving the _Patton_ alone. The Goblin had decided to make good its escape, and was already over a hill and out of sight, though not quite off radar. With no available target, he pushed his throttle to full and quickly ran to rejoin the convoy.

As she began to approach the last SRM carrier in the line, Randi caught another glimpse of movement in the rear portion of the viewscreen: five tiny, dark objects hanging in the sky, seeming to grow larger as they dipped down through the air, revealing little tails of fire as they flew. Randi tightened her grip on the joysticks and shoved her back into the command couch, bracing herself and her OmniMech for the impact. One second later, she heard an explosion and screech of missiles tearing through armor—but it was a little muffled and distant. In the space of a heartbeat, she was shaken as a pair of smaller but much closer impacts beat into her rear armor. The next sound to reach her ears was a groan of actuators, followed by the discharge of a gauss rifle.

_'What... just happened?'_

She scanned over her viewscreen quickly and spotted the _Hellhound_, perhaps a couple dozen meters behind her, leaning to one side heavily. Smoke and steam rolled off the side opposite to her as Fred began shifting the mass of the BattleMech back into line. She kept her throttle steady but turned her torso back towards her partner as she opened a comm channel to him.

"Fred...? Did you just—?"

"Yeah," he replied. "How's your armor lookin'?"

"Uh...two points of damage aft. And you?" As it turned, she could see a series of ugly scars and scorch marks running down the center torso of the _Hound's_ ferro-fibrous hide where he had taken the brunt of the heavy tank's punishment.

"I'm fine. Think we'll be out of range soon?"

"Yes..." She paused a little, then quietly offered a, "Thank you."

"Yeah," Fred replied. His voice seemed a little distant; his focus was not with her right now.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The drop-off was simple, though both of the mercs knew that they would be having a nice long chat with the Quikscell liaison the next day. The subject, of course, would be why they left with six carriers and a _Vedette_, and showed up at the spaceport—late—with only two-and-a-half carriers. That was definitely among the worst ways possible to start one's day.

Fortunately, the return trip was entirely uneventful. There was no sign of the bandits, and no other hostile units. The tread marks of the two tanks had long since been covered over with snow, and they had apparently made off with the severed arm of Randi's _Shadow Cat_, as well. Only the trench left by her fall evidenced any battle. As they came around the slopes, however, they were reminded immediately of the greatest misfortune of the day. A small mob of vehicles, including small cranes, snow cats, and earth-movers, had assembled around the collapsed tunnel. There were some temporary light fixtures set up, and a dozen or more figures down on the ground, waving orange flags to direct the activity. Akela had certainly kept his word in getting assistance, but the charred, crumpled husks of the carriers suggested that there was no one alive to save.

What worried Randi the most, however, was her partner's attitude. He remained quiet throughout the entire return journey, hardly speaking more than a single sentence at a time. She knew he was upset about the convoy, but she did not know what she could do to help.

She sighed, still pondering this dilemma, as Fred trotted into the hangar ahead of her. She piloted her 'Mech into the hangar after him carefully, and still quite slowly, then finally brought it to a stop and shut down the reactor. She quickly scrambled out of the 'Mech and onto the catwalk, jogging up alongside Fred as he walked towards the door. After the long hours of the mission, she was glad to be standing on her own two feet again.

"Fred...?" she started quietly, wrapping her hand around his arm lightly. "Are you...okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just... thinking..." he murmured. "Are you alright?"

"Heh, no major damage."

He looked at her for a moment, then back ahead, his head hung low, and gave a little sigh.

"What is wrong?"

"What's wrong?!" he exclaimed, raising his voice. "The mission—" He cut himself off quickly, trying to regain a hold on his emotions. Fred sighed again, shaking his head.

Randi took a step back, a little startled. She couldn't recall ever hearing him yell like that.

Fred shook his head. "I'm sorry, Randi... I didn't mean to yell at you. It's just...the mission was a disaster."

Randi nodded, rubbing her arms a little for warmth as the chill started to creep along her skin. "Well, maybe Quikscell will listen to us next time..."

"Maybe..."

"It was not your fault..." she offered quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder lightly as reassurance.

Fred just pushed her hand away gently and walked into the foyer. "Maybe."

Randi knit her brow a little, somewhat confused, and followed him into the building, not quite sure what to say or do. Before she could consider anything further, Akela's voice derailed her thoughts.

"Ah," he said, "the conquering heroes return. Good to see that you have both made it back in one piece." He gave them a warm smile as he looked up from his book, but remained seated cozily in one of the over-sized sofas. His right hand wandered almost autonomously over to the noteputer on the table beside him, and he tapped a few keys as he glanced at the screen.

"Thanks for the sarcasm, Fox," Fred muttered.

Akela chuckled, but Randi could tell he was annoyed at being called that nickname—much less being addressed in such away by a Spherer. Nevertheless, he kept up an amiable appearance. "I was hardly being sarcastic," the Clansman continued. "Despite being forced into a trap and ambushed, you still managed to save over half the convoy vehicles."

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. We lost to a couple frikkin' _tanks!_" Fred exclaimed. "That's pathetic."

"The purpose of an ambush typically is to turn the tide of battle in favor of the _attacker_..." Akela muttered. "While the losses may seem rather high, you must keep in mind that only _one_ vehicle was lost during the fight. All the others were lost due to circumstances beyond your control, and that is something that you must simply accept. Besides, if it had not been for your presence on the field, the _entire_ convoy would have been destroyed. I hardly care to imagine what those bandits were planning for the convoy crew with that _Goblin_."

"Wait, what do you mean about the _Goblin?_" Randi interjected.

"I thought at first that it was a typical design, but it was unfamiliar to me, so I checked it against Quikscell's database. That 'tank' is really more of an APC with guns. It is meant to carry eight infantrymen," he explained. "Perhaps they intended to steal a couple of the tanks, but they would only be able to take two carriers, at most. The infantry presence hints at something more grisly, I should think..."

"Whoa, hold on... We got owned by an _APC?!_ Oh, this day just keeps getting better and better." Fred raked his hands back through his dark hair in frustration.

Akela sighed. "You are missing the point..."

"Whatever," Fred replied irritably, cutting him off. "Look, I'm gonna go grab a beer and...Well, I don't know what I'll be doing, but I'll have beer. You two hold the floor down." He unzipped his cooling vest, dropping it on the floor apathetically, and walked off without another word.

Several seconds of awkward silence followed, made more awkward by the conspicuous ticking of a clock in the next room. "I think that went well," Akela said finally, looking up at Randi. She rolled her eyes and plopped down on the sofa next to him, leaning back against his shoulder. He gave an irritated grunt. "Uh...do you _mind?_"

"Oh, I do not mind at all."

"I thought as much," he muttered, shifting a little in an effort to get comfortable. He soon decided that was futile, however, and stood up suddenly.

Randi gave a little squeak of surprise as she fell back on the couch. "What was that for?" she said, looking a little indignant, as she propped herself up on one elbow.

He grabbed the noteputer and headed for the door to the 'Mech hangar. "I am going to go take a look at the Battle ROMs," he said. "With your permission, that is...Miss _Greene_."

She stiffened at that. Hearing him address her with her Spheroid surname seemed so strange, and gave her an odd sense that he must be speaking to someone else. In truth, she wanted to believe he was speaking to someone else, and that she would still be Randi Sender someday. She forced herself to give a little nod, choosing to ignore the awkwardness and the humiliation. "Fine. Just don't go poking around where you shouldn't..." she said, her speech now deliberately and defiantly Spheroid. _'I do not trust him...'_ she thought, giving him a pointedly suspicious look, _'but if he is at all sincere in trying to help us, then he will need to see that footage.'_

Akela just gave her a pleased smile in return and nodded. "Of course," he said, as he grabbed his coat from the rack by the door and ducked out into the hangar.

He closed the door behind him and trotted down the walkway. The hangar was dimly lit, and he could not find any sort of light switch. That made him a little uncomfortable, as he did not relish the idea of stumbling into something in the dark. He passed by his _Puma_, which melted unobtrusively into the shadows with its dull grey paint. A _Bushwhacker_ was the next BattleMech after that, followed by the _Shadow Cat_, and then the _Hellhound_.

He immediately noticed the _Cat's_ missing arm and torn right side. "_This_ should be interesting," he mused aloud as he opened the cockpit and climbed inside. He arched his eyebrows a little as he surveyed the "patchwork" interior, wondering if the 'Mech had been like this when Marcus Prewitt owned it.

He set the noteputer down on his lap and then tapped in a few commands on the console , bringing the instruments online. A window in the foremost part of the viewscreen appeared, and the computer gave him a prompt. "Accessing... BattleROMs. Please specify file."

"Play ROM for zero-four twenty-three thirty-sixty-eight, fourteen-hundred hours."

"Confirmed. Playing ROM."

"Skip to fourteen-twenty-three hours."

The battle itself was sudden, short, and if the footage was any clue, quite frenzied. Akela cringed a little as the video relayed Randi's tumble down the mountain side. He could imagine all too well what that must have been like. What intrigued him, though, was not Randi's response to the situation, but her lancemate's reaction. In particular, the note of distress in Fred's voice caught his attention. He admitted that the shock of seeing a comrade sliding down a hill like that would distress him as well, but he would have done his best to remain calm.

Spheroids, as a whole, were more openly emotional than Clanners, who were bred and trained to keep their cool in a fight. _'I suspect, though, that this is not just a matter of upbringing. Acosta already showed a tendency towards emotionalism when the tunnel collapsed._' Emotions were easy to exploit, but equally hard to predict. _'That makes Acosta a wild card...'_ Akela thought to himself, typing out some more mundane observations of the battle into his noteputer.

Once the battle footage was over, he turned off the ROM and climbed back out of the cockpit. The next thing to do was review Acosta's perspective of the same battle. Besides the additional information of who-what-when-where, he needed to know more about the man's fighting style.

If Fred Acosta was, as Akela guessed, somewhere in or near his thirties, then he likely had about ten years of experience in piloting a BattleMech. He doubted that Acosta had wasted this time, considering that Randi was willing to work with him. Even as she tried to cram her Clan spirit into a constricting Spheroid persona, he knew that his sibkin still was—and perhaps always would be—far too Wolf to work under anyone undeserving of her respect. The fact that Randi respected Acosta spoke volumes for the man.

"A _true_ Wolf," Helina had once told him, "will _never_ submit to a weaker authority. Dogs submit to frail, corrupt, and abusive leaders, but only the strongest may lead a Wolf pack."

With this in mind, Akela climbed into the cockpit of the _Hellhound_, and again keyed on the BattleRom. He took a line from his noteputer, plugged it into the console, and brought up a command prompt.

"Accessing..." the computer began.

"Play ROM for zero-four twenty-three thirty-sixty-eight, fourteen-hundred hours," Akela interrupted it. "Select all ROMs in directory _root_ and copy to _external device_." With that, he sat back as comfortably as he could in the cramped cockpit and watched the video feed.

The hours passed slowly as he watched the entirety of the mission. Aside from the tunnel incident and the battle, little out of the ordinary occurred. Even the seemingly irrelevant parts of the mission, however, provided information to him. There was a difference in the way that the _Hellhound_ moved before the trouble started and after it was over. For the first part of the mission, the medium 'Mech kept a sprightly but calm pace; on the return trip, the gait of the 'Mech belied a turbulence in the pilot's emotions. He finished typing his notes and stepped out of the cockpit, sighing a little as he stretched his arms to loose the muscles in his shoulders.

Just as he was about to turn back towards the exit, a little glint of metal caught his eye further down the catwalk. Staring into the darkness, he could discern a familiar outline from the shadows. He took a step forward, then paused uncertainly. Curiosity quickly got the better of him, however, and he quietly walked down to the black 'Mech.

The insignia had long ago been removed, but he recognized the chassis immediately. "Hello, _Nyx_," he said aloud, though softly, and chuckled to himself. Seeing this Omni again was rather nostalgic. He had found over the past few years that he rather missed seeing it on the field beside him. He had always enjoyed playing his strengths to his sibkin's, with his light 'Mechs as the slicing wind to drive back enemies, and her heavier forces as the sword to gut them.

He gave the _Mad Cat_ a quick once-over, curious what changes Randi had made. The additional machine gun array puzzled him somewhat. She had always disliked that weapon because of its low damage and high ammo-consumption, instead preferring small or medium lasers.

Looking a little closer, he could also see that there was something a little odd about the casing on the barrel. He leaned forward and ran his hand along it, feeling for a crack or obvious warp in the metal. After a moment, he found one such crack. There was a hairline fissure in the metal, probably caused as it cooled too quickly after firing for an extended period.

The creak of the door caught his attention quickly, as he looked back to see Randi's silhouette framed by the light from the foyer. "Akela...?" she asked, looking around. As she spotted him, her tone grew demanding. "What are you doing?"

He stepped back from the _Mad Cat_ and walked back towards her. "Oh, Randi. I was just looking at _Nyx_—"

"I told you not to go nosing around!" she snapped, striding up to him. "Kerensky! You're trying to sabotage my 'Mech!"

"Calm down, Randi. You are being unreasonable."

"Unreasonable?! You're trying to kill me!"

"No, I am not!"

"Lying surat!" she shouted, taking another step forward. Her stride and body language was becoming increasingly aggressive.

Akela sighed and shook his head. Right now, he only wanted to diffuse the situation. "If you just let me explain..."

"Trial of Grievance!" she snarled.

That threw him off a little. "...What?"

"You, me, Trial, now!"

He stared back at her disbelievingly. "Randi, you cannot call a Trial of Grievance. You are no longer Clan."

Her snarl turned to an angry scowl—and that was all the warning he had before her fist rocketed forward into his face. Akela stumbled back, more surprised than truly hurt, and grabbed her wrist to prevent another blow. His sibkin responded not by backing off, but by pressing her attack. She bolted forward and twisted, slamming her shoulder into his sternum and knocking him back into the railing. As his back contacted the metal, she hooked her left leg behind his knee, and jerked it back to send him to the ground.

Akela released his grip on her hand to grab the railing for support, and immediately felt a set of bony knuckles slam into his skull. He brought his other arm up quickly to stave another punch, and shot his hand forward against her throat. Never giving her the chance to react, he tightened his grip, and simultaneously drove his knee up into her stomach. As Randi started to double over a little, he let go of the railing, trying to regain control of the situation. She struggled in his grip, and pushed his hand away from her throat, only to find his right arm snaking around her neck for a rear naked choke.

"Randi, stop it!" he barked, as he tried to slip his other arm up under hers and clasp his right wrist for a more secure hold. "Do not make me blood-choke you..."

"Freebirth!" She jabbed him in the gut with her elbow and finally stumbled out of his grip, only to run into the railing.

Akela lunged forward and grabbed her by the arm and the back of her shirt as she stumbled, catching her before she leaned too far over the rail. Before he could even breathe a sigh of relief, the door burst open again.

"Let her go, you bastard!" Fred shouted, as he ran down the catwalk, drawing his gun, cocking it and aiming it at Akela's head in a single swift motion.

The Clansman froze, then slowly pulled his sibkin back from the railing.

Fred continued walking forward, keeping his aim steady. "I said, let her GO, dammit!"

This time, Akela complied, and took a step back, raising his hands.

The mercenary strode forward past his very startled lancemate, pushing her back behind himself quickly, as he stepped between her and Akela. His face was flushed with anger, and there was violent, furious spark in his dark eyes. Akela just stared back at him calmly, giving no hint of emotion, and remaining as still as he could in order to avoid provoking him further.

"You've got five seconds to gimme a good answer, or I'll blow your frakkin' brains out, trashborn," Fred growled.

"She slipped," Akela replied simply. He knew the mercenary was making a statement, not a threat.

"Then why did I hear _yelling_, and why do you have a bloody lip?"

"We just had a little misunderstanding. The bloody lip was my own fault. I stumbled over something in the dark, and tripped." He wiped the warm, salty liquid from his lip and straightened his jacket, meanwhile calculating the best means to disarm the freeborn, if need be. "Sorry to cause such alarm."

Fred gave him a suspicious look, took a step back, and glanced back to Randi. "Is that true?"

"I... I-It wasn't his fault," she said, stumbling over her words. She could not quite figure out why Akela would lie in her favor, or why he kept her from falling. Come to think of it, she never had figured out why he saved her from being beaten by her Elemental sibkin years ago. _'Perhaps, he was been speaking the truth about looking over _Nyx_.'_

There was a tense pause as Fred stared at the Clansman critically, with a flicker of anger still in his eyes. He lowered his handgun slowly and a little hesitantly, switched the safety back on, and then holstered it. "Alright..."

Akela ran his tongue over his split lower lip and shook his head a little. "Look, I have a bit of a headache," he said, picking up his noteputer from the console of the _Hellhound_ as he closed the cockpit hatch. "So, I think I'll turn in for the night. Oh, and Randi...you might want to check the left machine gun array on your _Mad Cat_..."

He rubbed his forehead a little, trying to massage some of the pain away, and walked back into the building. As he continued down the hall to his quarters, he gave a grunt of frustration. _'Acosta is definitely a wild card, and that is the last thing I need right now...'_


	18. Chapter 18

_As with _TLH_, many apologies for the long delay. I've had a lot of work to deal with lately, and unfortunately the more fun things (i.e. fic writing) have had to take a backseat to the un-fun things. Hopefully, though, the worst of that is over. Enjoy another chapter, that may answer some of your questions._

_Oh, and _Mosin_? Have an e-cookie. You totally called this one._

Chapter 18

"You've got a lot of explaining to do, Acosta. And you'd better make it real good if you want a paycheck." The Quikscell rep, a man named Singh, had wasted no time on small talk. It was a sharp contrast to everyone else in this organization that the mercenaries had spoken with so far.

"Hey, don't pin this on _me_. We had a better route and you ignored our advice!"

"You lost over half the convoy! What kind of incompetents are you, that you can't fend off a couple of _tanks_ with Clan _BattleMechs?_"

Randi just looked back and forth between Singh and her partner. Fred was obviously quite angry. She had the feeling that, even though he would never admit it, he did blame himself for what happened to the convoy. She wanted to jump into the conversation and back him up, to offer something that might make Singh take a better look at what transpired. Somehow, though, she could not bring herself to speak. Instead, she merely sat watching the two men argue, barely noticed in the exchange.

_'I would probably mess things up if I tried to say anything...'_ she thought to herself, glancing down at the floor. _'If this were a batchall or a Trial, I could win it...but Spheroid negotiations are different.'_

As soon as she looked up, she saw Akela standing behind Singh. He clasped his hand down on the Quikscell rep's shoulder firmly and used the pressure to direct him towards the table. "Mr. Singh, please... I think we are _all_ quite distraught over yesterday's events. Yelling will not resolve anything, though. If everyone could just take a minute to calm down," he shot a warning glance at Fred, "and examine what occurred, then I'm sure we can come to a reasonable negotiation."

Singh did not resist the direction, but once seated, he scowled back at Akela. "There's nothing to negotiate. This company failed its assignment and cost us employees and material. And who are you, anyway?"

"I am the tac officer. My name is Akela Kerr," he explained, taking a seat across from Singh; Fred reluctantly sat a few chairs over from Akela. "Now, I understand how heavy the convoy losses were. If you would care to watch the BattleROMs, however, you will get a more complete picture of what actually happened."

"Very well..."

The Clansman began playing the ROM and fast-forwarded it to the approach to the tunnel entrance.

"The first three convoy vehicles, including Shepherd's _Vedette_ were caught inside the tunnel. A series of pressure-activated mines were buried under the dirt of the road," he said, slowing the feed. "The blast was triggered only once there was sufficient weight on the mines. That ensured the saboteurs that they would take out more than one tank—or possibly a BattleMech.

"The first blast triggered a set of explosives in the ceiling of the tunnel, ensuring that the target would be not only damaged or destroyed, but trapped under the rubble. That would have given the tanks time enough to move in and mop up the survivors."

Singh shifted uncomfortably in his chair as the massacre played back in slow-motion. Fred refused to look at the screen, instead pretending to do something important with his wristwatch. Just as Akela expected, his sibkin was the only one who seemed unfazed by the images.

"Well..." Singh said, after a little hesitation, "it does appear that...some of the losses were, uhm, unavoidable." He scribbled out a short note on his legal pad and looked back at Akela. "So, what about the others?"

"The _others?_" Fred muttered. "_Mon Dieu..._"

Before the mercenary could confront Singh again, Akela intervened. "I'll replay the footage, now," he said, skipping ahead to the tanks' appearance. "The hostiles were not in the _Shadow Cat's_ line-of-sight, so the active probe could not detect them."

Once the fight was over, Akela paused the feed and turned back to the Quikscell liaison. "As you may have noticed, these 'bandits' are a much higher-caliber force than a typical pirate band. I think it is fairly safe to assume that we are facing an opposing mercenary unit. For another thing," he said, moving back to a frame that showed the _Patton_ tank, and enlarging the picture, "not many pirates put _insignia_ on their units." The image was pixelated, but showed a tan shape—some sort of fish or sea animal—above three gold stars on the front of the vehicle. The tank also showed a pattern of shark teeth painted over the camouflage, on its "nose."

"_¡Mierda!_" Fred exclaimed, slamming a fist down on the table as he jumped up from his seat. "It's the damned _Tibur__ó__n__e__s!_"

Singh and both of the Clanners looked back at Fred, a little startled. "The who...?" Randi asked, a little meekly.

Acosta glared at the screen once more, and then sat down, regaining his composure. "_Los Tibur__ó__n__e__s del Toro_," he explained. "The Bullsharks. They're a Taurian merc group, maybe...two companies in size, with mixed 'Mechs and tanks. They didn't have Aero assests last I knew, but that could have changed." He pointed at the screen. "Their insignia is a bullshark above three gold stars, and it's always on the front of the vehicle. Kind of a take of the Taurian insignia... And they always paint shark teeth on their units."

"You seem to know quite a bit about them," Singh said.

"Actually, I don't. I just know that they liked to act like they were _muy fantásticos_ in the Concordat," he muttered. "I've never fought with or against them before."

Singh looked down at his notepad for a moment, and then looked back at Fred. "Look, I have other appointments, and you have a convoy route," he said. "So, I'll make this brief. I'm not happy with the losses."

"Interesting," said Fred. "Neither are we. But y'know, if you would give your missile carriers some frikkin' missiles—that _is_ what they're for—we wouldn't have lost so many."

"Actually, if you had merely agreed to my convoy route, _none_ of this would have happened. The _Tiburón__e__s_ were waiting. They knew you used that road for every convoy run, and now they've completely strangled it," Akela pointed out. From the corner of his eye he could see Acosta frown just slightly. _'He obviously does not know that I am doing him a favor...'_

Though he looked loathe to admit it, Singh finally nodded with the assessment. "Alright. I can't guarantee ammo for the carriers, but I'll leave the next route up to you. Let me warn you, though, that another fumble is going to cost you this contract." He gave a brief mutter of, "Good day," and walked out into the foyer to leave.

Fred hooked his thumbs in his pockets and walked up to Akela. "So, who were you trying to show off for? I think Singh had a wedding band, and _I'm_ not impressed."

Akela smirked and shook his head. "Sorry, but you're not exactly my type. ...But that's not what you're upset about, I can tell." He glanced over his shoulder at Randi as she walked out of the room. Looking back at Acosta, he could see a quick pang of emotion flash through the man's eyes, but the mercenary quickly disguised it.

"I think you must be confusing my relief for something else," Fred replied dismissively.

"Like jealousy?" he retorted swiftly, and a little smugly. _'Spherers are such emotive creatures. That seems to be the one thing I can count on most from this man,'_ Akela mused. _'Now, to see how much it controls him.'_

"Why would I be jealous of _you?_" Fred scoffed. "You're just an arrogant kid. I've seen plenty like you, and no matter where it is—military, merc unit, Solaris—they're always the first to go."

"You make it sound like this is a competition. So, what are we competing for?" the Clansman asked. "Or, should I say, _who?_"

Fred glared. "Okay, Foxy Loxy... I don't know what your problem is, but I know what it's _going to be_ if you keep tryin' to undermine my command. And leave Randi alone."

"Is that an order or a threat?"

"She doesn't want anything to do with you, and you know that."

"Ah, is that what she _said?_" Akela mused. "Perhaps she never told you, but she and I... Well, we have something of a history, you might say."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe you should go ask _her_." The Clansman gathered up the discs for the BattleROM footage, and walked off down the hall.

* * *

Oliver had become a sea of ivory as the winter wind continued to drive in more snow. Already today, what had begun as a light dusting, had turned into a moderate snowfall. The road would have made for easy travel; the route Akela had given them was a much more difficult journey. The tanks were even slower plowing through the snowdrifts, but the trade off for a little speed was a far greater amount of security.

_'So, why are things still not right?'_ Randi heaved a sigh as she trudged through the snow, in the _Bushwhacker_, following the wake of the convoy. _'We had two great convoy runs last week, since we changed to this route. But Fred does not seem to be any happier. I wish I knew why.'_

Up ahead, she could see the pale silhouette of the _Hellhound_ running alongside the missile carriers. The Clan 'Mech never turned its torso, only trotting straight ahead as if in a daze. A short gasp left her lips as she saw the 50-tonner begin to veer a little too close to the vehicles. Fred seemed to realize what he was doing, however, and adjusted his vector.

"Is everything okay, Dingo?" she asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. How's it looking back there?"

"No sign of any threats."

"Good." He gave a little huff, and muttered, "Silly of me to think we'd need missiles..."

"Better to have them and not need them..." Randi offered.

"Yeah."

As the minutes ticked by quietly, Randi struggled for something more to say. Before she could manage any further comments, she was thrown forward a bit as her 'Mech came to an abrupt halt. She caught her balance quickly and looked around, to find herself lodged in a small snowdrift.

"Black Wolf, what's the hold-up?" asked the convoy leader.

"Ugh, just this _str_— this stupid snow," she replied, catching herself before she slipped in a Clan word. "Keep rolling, convoy. It will only take me a moment to get free." Randi gave the throttle a couple of stomps and twisted the joysticks a little, trying to work her way out of the drift. Of course, the whole ordeal would have been much easier if she had a 'Mech with jumpjets.

"Too bad Fox can't predict the weather, huh, _'miga_?" said her partner. There was some vague irritation in his voice, partly masked by a sardonic chuckle.

Taking the _Bushwhacker_ back a few steps and to the side managed to do the trick of freeing it from the snow. She stumbled a little, then trampled back through some looser snow to follow the convoy.

"Fred..." she started, as she opened the private channel, "I..."

Uncertainty got the better of her for a moment, and she hesitated. She was a little concerned that he might feel she was being intrusive for asking anything. Ultimately, she reasoned that it was best to try to find out what was bothering him, even if it aggravated him a little. Perhaps she could help, though she somewhat doubted that.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. The mission is going smoothly expect for all this snow," he said.

"I am not talking about the mission."

After a long pause, he finally muttered, "Nothing."

"Fred..."

"It's nothing, okay? I just got some stuff on my mind." As the seconds ticked away, it seemed he was not going to converse any further. Then he suddenly opened the comm again. "Hey... What's Akela's history?"

"Pretty much the same as mine, really. We grew up in the same sibko, graduated at the same time, and were transferred to the same unit under Helina Kerensky. We won the same rank, too—both Star Captains."

"And you're sure he's here to kill you? Not... something else?"

"I cannot think of any other reason that he would be here, really," she said. "You know... I'm beginning to get the feeling that Akela bothers you more than he bothers me."

"Wha'dya mean by that? He's trying to kill you...and you're worried 'cause you think I'm more worried than you? I mean, I'd really rather that he _not_ kill you, but shouldn't you be the one who's really upset here?"

"You did not answer my question."

"What question? You said you're not concerned about Akela."

"I am concerned...but I know him. We have spent many years together."

"I see."

She heaved a sigh, still trying to stay alert as she spoke. "You do not want to talk, anymore. I get it."

"Look," Fred began, sounding a little flustered, "there are...there's some things I can't say right now. But I found out what I needed to know, so let's leave it at that. Okay?"

"...Very well. If—"

"_Enemy detected,_" the Bushwhacker's computer calmly reported, as a red dot suddenly appeared at the edge of her radar, coming in behind them.

"Contact, nine hundred fifty meters, and closing!" Randi said, hurriedly turning to the regular channel. "Convoy, stay _en route_. Dingo, one BattleMech inbound at seven o'clock. No visual, but the computer marks it as a _Centurion_."

"_¡__Ay! Los Tibur__ó__ne__s!_" Fred snarled. The _Hellhound_ came to a halt and spun around; in the same motion, Fred brought the 'Mech's guns to bear with the horizon line. A loud crack split the cold air, and a silvery ball spun past Randi's 'Mech and into the white haze behind her. "Stay with the convoy. I'll take care of this guy."


	19. Chapter 19

_Apologies [once more] for the long delay in updating. But better late than never, I suppose. Again, I have _Hellcat_ to thank for making this chapter possible. He's been endlessly patient in helping me get through the Spanish dialogue.  
_

**Notice:**_ This chapter contains some more **mature content** than usual. ...Depending on what country you live in and what language you speak. As I've begun learning Spanish, I've discovered that the many regional differences in the language can lead to some..."interesting" miscommunication. So, hopefully the Spanish-speakers in the audience can get a chuckle out of this one._

_(English-speakers: think about difference between the UK and USA usage of the word "pants," for an analogy. Also, you won't need to use a web translator to understand the _gist_ of what's being said__.)_

* * *

Chapter 19

Akela sighed a little and rested his chin on his fist. To his left was the radio, with the MechWarriors' comm chatter stumbling out the speaker; to his right, a clarinet trill drifted out of his noteputer, and sauntered off with a nostalgic jazz.

"I do hope those two are not in over their heads," he muttered aloud, as he turned down the Gershwin and raised the volume of the comm.

_"Convoy, maintain full speed and course."_

_"Uh, we're coming up on some rough terrain, Black Wolf."_

_"Acknowledged. Form up on me. How are you holding up, Dingo?"_

_"Been better. I just got hammered with some LRMs."_

_'Aff. They are in over their heads.'_ He sighed again, tapping his fingers in time with the dance hall rhythm of the song. A small chime caught his attention, as a notice appeared on the screen in front of him. _'Splendid.'_ The Clansman's indifference melted into disgust as he read the name of the sender. _'Prewitt.'_

"Kerr!" The other man exclaimed, as Akela reluctantly accepted the conversation. "What's goin' on? I haven't heard anything outta you for _weeks_. I'm tired of sittin' here, doin' nothing."

"It has not been that long," the Clansman replied simply. He gave Prewitt a curious look, trying to determine if the Solaran was drunk or merely in the same state of disarray that seemed so common to him. A shout of "_Merde!_ You sonuva—" from the comm broke his concentration. He winced a little at the sound of gunfire that followed, and then turned back to the noteputer screen. "I told you not to contact me."

"Then why the hell didja drag me out here?!"

"Just have some _patience_. An opportunity for action will present itself."

"But—"

Akela closed the transmission abruptly, and resumed listening in on the mercenaries. If _Los Tibur__ó__nes del Toro_ killed Acosta, then that would be one less thorn in his side. Though with the Spheroid's demise, the chances of Randi's death would be significantly higher. That would be most undesirable.

_'I still need her alive...'_ Akela opened a channel to the MechWarriors. "Dingo, Black Wolf, what's your status?"

* * * * *

"We have one Centurion moving in on our six. Dingo is engaged with one of the _Tibur__ó__nes_' BattleMechs," Randi replied to her sibkin.

"It's nothing to worry about, Fox," Acosta interrupted.

"Are you certain you can handle this one, Dingo?" Randi asked, slowing her pace a bit. The _Centurion_ carried a mean array of weaponry, with an LRM for long range and an A/C 10 for close-up hitting power. The _Hellhound's_ C-STRK 2's hardly compared to the punch of an autocannon.

"There's nothing to worry about. This 'Mech is much too slow to catch up to me—and if he decides to pick on the convoy, then you can start pummeling him at-range."

_'He does have a good range advantage with that light gauss. I just hope that his ammo does not run out before he can deter the _Centurion_...'_ Even as she tried to reassure herself, there was still a nagging worry in the back of her mind. The convoy was moving slowly, and now that they had been spotted, it would not be difficult for _los Tibur__ó__nes del Toro_ to catch them in an ambush.

"Uhm, on second thought, maybe I'll be joining you," Fred said hurriedly.

Randi glanced down at her radar; the _Hellhound_ was moving at full-speed back towards the convoy. "What's wrong?"

"More company. There's a _Trebuchet_ moving in on my eight o'clock."

"_¡Vos es un cobarde!_" one the bandits taunted over the open channel. "_Ja ja ja._"

She leaned the _Bushwhacker's_ joystick to the left abruptly and pushed the throttle pedal down to the floor. She did not need to be told what to do now—that made her smile a little. It had been years since she had worked with anyone who was in sync with her on the field. As her 'Mech stomped off towards the attackers, Fred's _Hellhound_ fell into vanguard position for the missile carriers, leaving the _Tibur__ó__nes_ 'Mechs to try and catch up.

There was a short chortle of derisive laughter on the open channel, as Randi's sensor range met with that of the _Centurion_. "_¿Así, estás volviendo para luchar—?_" a man began. A second later, the _Centurion_ turned away quickly, as the pilot realized what he was facing. "_¡Lucio, éste es un 'Mech diverso!_"

Fred laughed. "It looks like they weren't expecting _us_ to have two 'Mechs, either."

"Good." Randi grinned and quickly brought her targeting reticule down over the _Centurion_, and squeezed the trigger. The heavy 'Mech staggered a little as the _Bushwhacker's_ LRMs pounded into its torso. Taking advantage of its hesitation, she turned away to deal with the more nimble _Trebuchet_. It backed away, firing its medium lasers in an effort to discourage her. Randi ignored the shots, and hit the 'Mech with a spray of her A/C 10.

This 'Mech was a bit more of a problem for the mission than the _Centurion_. It was an even match for Randi in speed, and had much better long-range firepower. She turned to the right quickly, trying to close in on the _Trebuchet_, but its pilot realized what she was doing. An alarm sounded in the _Bushwhacker's_ cockpit, warning of a missile lock. Randi cut her speed and turned away, trying to get out of the _Trebuchet's_ cross hairs, but the deep snow made such a hasty maneuver difficult. From the corner of her eye, she could already see a mass of LRMs coming towards her.

"Freebirth!" she hissed aloud as the missiles smacked into the side of her BattleMech.

* * * * *

Akela grumbled a little to himself as he looked over the data on his noteputer screen. The opposing units were using a rather peculiar encryption for their radio frequencies. Though he had not yet managed to decipher it, he had noticed that they were receiving additional information over these frequencies, as well. It was difficult to determine where these transmissions originated, but he could guess that the content of the broadcast was images.

_'That has to be a bad thing,'_ he thought, sighing, as he began to wade through the encryption. After a few minutes of patient work, he was rewarded with the data of FM frequency. He smiled and turned up the speakers.

"_¿Por qué tienen dos 'Mechs? ¡Deben solamente tener _un_ operacional!_"

"_Ay, ese idiota Alejandro nos dio _intel_ culpable otra vez. ¿Qué debemos ahora hacer?_"

"_Necesitamos __Gómez__ aquí, para distraerlos._"

"_¡__Gómez__! Atacar los portadores de LRMs._"

"_¡__Vale__!_"

The Clansman fused his brow as he stared down at the noteputer. "What in the...?"

"Hey, Fox!" Fred snapped tersely, interrupting his thoughts. "How about doing something _useful_, like getting into their frequencies for us?"

"Right away, Dingo." Akela grinned, and typed in a few more keystrokes, relaying the transmissions to the _Hellhound's_ comm with the volume at maximum.

"Ack!" Fred yelped. A string of scolding, unintelligible curses followed, ending with a barked command of, "SEELONCE!"

"Oh, sorry about that," Akela lied, as he lowered the volume to a reasonable level. "Can you understand what they are saying?"

"Maybe when my ears stop ringing... Wait... They just said something about a tank... Crap. I think they've got a tank out there."

* * * * *

Randi glanced down at her armor levels quickly, watching the indicator for the left arm and torso drop from yellow to orange. She had managed to inflict a fair amount of damage on both of the _Tibur__ó__nes'_ 'Mechs, thanks in part to Fred's previous attacks. However, they still showed no sign of tiring from the fight.

She chewed her lip, trying to think while dancing back and forth between the _Centurion_ and _Trebuchet_, trading shots with each. She doubted that she and Fred could manage to destroy or incapacitate both 'Mechs completely without neglecting the convoy to do so. Forcing them to withdraw from the fight was the only reasonable goal. Unfortunately, with every moment, the three BattleMechs drew closer to the convoy. If she tried to pull them away from the fight, only one would follow, while the other remained in pursuit of the vehicles.

"Dingo, I cannot keep this up much longer. They will not break off," she said, frustrated.

"We have another problem," Fred replied. "There's a _Chevalier_ moving in fast from my two o'clo— It's in range! All units, _open fire!_"

Not a second later, a static-ridden commotion of missile and gunfire flooded over the comm. The noise ceased abruptly as he closed the channel, and a thick silence flooded in. Scanning her viewscreen, she could spot bursts of orange and red through the winter air, revealing the exchange between the convoy and the _Chevalier_.

The silence quickly burst with an excited proclamation of, "Yeah! Nailed the little bastard!" from one of the vehicle crews.

Randi saw the 'Mechs hesitate for a moment, clearly distressed about the loss of the _Chevalier_. She slammed down on the throttle, her 'Mech lurching forward as she raced towards the _Trebuchet_, and hit the Alpha Strike. The pilot quickly came to his senses as autocannon and laser fire raked across the torso of his 'Mech, and turned to sacrifice some of the armor on its "healthy" side to the incoming missiles. Randi circled around him, and moved on to the _Centurion_. She grazed one of its arms with a medium lasers, while she waited for the heat to dissipate from her 'Mech. The Centurion sent a barrage of missiles into her lower right torso, stripping off the armor rapidly, and followed up with its own lasers. Although the two MechWarriors had been surprised by her appearance, they were proving to be tenacious opponents.

A loud, distinctive crack rippled through the air, just as silvery armor sprayed out of a wound in the _Centurion's_ hip. Fred's _Hellhound_ appeared on her radar in short order, pursuing the enemy 'Mech once more. "_¿Cuál es tu problema? ¡Perdiste tus cojones muy rápidamente!_" Fred sneered as the BattleMech began to withdraw. "_¡Lucharme!_"

With Fred attacking the _Centurion_, Randi turned back to the _Trebuchet_. As she closed in, a stream of missiles from one of the carriers suddenly ripped through the air in front of her, and pounded into her target's midsection. Another salvo, and then another followed. Both failed to impact the 'Mech, but succeeded in startling the pilot. He pressed forward to slice into Randi's _Bushwhacker_ one last time with his lasers, before a bark from her autocannon sent him into a full retreat. The _Centurion_ torso-twisted to look back at Fred's _Hellhound_, then quickly followed its lancemate.

"_¡Esto no ha terminado!_" one of them cried angrily, as the 'Mechs pushed their throttle to maximum.

"What did they say?" Randi asked.

Fred gave a derisive snort. "They said, 'This isn't over.' But considering we're two-to-zero on those SOBs," he replied, "I'm not too worried..."

"Dingo, this is Convoy Lead! We've got something, here!" one of the tankers exclaimed.

"Uh, go ahead, Convoy," Fred acknowledged.

"We caught the _Chevalier's_ crew! Well, two of them, that is."

The _Hellhound_ turned towards Randi's 'Mech for a moment, then trotted off towards the vehicles. "_This_ should be interesting."

* * * * *

Though not the first or best choice, the only practical place to confine their (somewhat worse-for-wear) prisoners was a fair-sized storage room. Akela frowned a little as he peered through the small window in the door, studying the detainees. Both were men in their mid or early twenties, and shared the same medium-brown hair and olive complexion. There was a clear resemblance, even under the bruises and bandages. The man one on the left had fallen and broken his arm in his attempt to get away, and the other man had apparently gone back to help him, when they were caught. The latter's worst injuries were a few burns that he received when he climbed out of the _Chevalier_.

_'Brothers,'_ Akela thought, _'or perhaps cousins. '_

An impatient footfall echoed down the corridor as he reached for the doorknob. "What do you think you're doing?" Fred demanded, as he walked up to the Clansman.

"Opening the door. See, you just turn the handle and _voil__à__!_ Marvelous, no?" He kept a straight face, not revealing the agitation he felt.

"Well, I'm glad you've found your calling in life as a doorman," the mercenary retorted. "And now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Alright, since you seem to insist on doing my job for me," Akela muttered.

"I'm just making sure that you're doing your job right. I mean, since you can't even operate a _radio_ correctly," he said with a glare, "you clearly need a little managerial direction."

"Oh, so you're the micro-managing type. Either that," he said, "or you are very desperate to impress someone. As they say, _chercez la femme_."

"_Je n'en sais rien à ce sujet_," Fred replied, with a surprisingly natural accent. "_Vous êtes confondu encore. __Voyons à quel point vous compétent êtes. Peut-être vous êtes juste un poseur._" He stretched out the last word for effect, and smirked as he opened the door, gesturing Akela to go first. "_Après vous._"

Akela gave the Spheroid a suspicious look, trying to mask his confusion, but went ahead into the room. "Very well..." Fred followed after him, and lingered near the door to observe.

The two prisoners cut their hushed conversation short and stopped fidgeting with their handcuffs. They looked up as Akela sat down across the table from them, trying to appear calm; despite these efforts, both appeared to be slightly disoriented still.

"Let's not bother with small talk," Akela said, "and just skip to the basics. Tell me your names, your ranks, serial numbers, and unit."

The two exchanged puzzled looks. Finally, the one with the cast on his arm spoke up. "_Señor?_ You, eh... espeak _el_—the Espanish, _por favor__?_"

"What?" Akela asked, frowning.

"Espanish," the man repeated. "_Por favor._ We no..._como dice_... no speak the Eenglays."

"Eenglays?"

"_Sí_, we do no speak Eenglays."

The Clansman pondered this for a moment, before he realized what the man was saying. "Oh. Ohh, English." He frowned more. "You...don't speak English."

"_Sí._"

He chewed his lip for a moment, then nodded. "And what if I were to tell you, that if you don't give me the answers I want, right now..." he said, standing up, "I will drag you outside by the scruff of your neck, grind your face into the asphalt, and then stomp you to a mushy pulp under the foot of my 'Mech? Because I happen to be a Clanner, and we are known to do such things." He was not at all inclined to follow through on this threat but the prisoners, of course, did not know that.

Rather than react with surprise or fear, the two men just gave him bewildered looks. One murmured to the other, "_¿Qué él dijo sobre un _'Mech_ y un _Clanner_?_"

Glancing over his shoulder, Akela could see that Fred attempting to suppress his laughter. He sighed, ignoring the merc, and paced around behind the prisoners. Without warning, he grabbed the least injured one by the collar of his shirt, jerking him backwards, and clapped his hand around the man's neck. "Would you like to start talking, now?"

"_¡Huy! ¡¿Qué usted quiere saber?! Mi...¡Mi nombre! Mi nombre es _Mateo_, y soy el artillero del _Chevalier_, y... y..._"

"Dammit, Akela," Fred snapped, stepping forward. "He doesn't know what you're saying. Let him go."

Somewhat reluctantly, Akela released the man and stepped back, allowing Fred to take his place.

Acosta sat down and addressed the prisoners. "_Me disculpo por las acciones de mi amigo_," he began. This seemed to put them at ease. "_Si ustedes no quiere tratar de él otra vez, ustedes debe cooperar…_"

The one with the cast slouched and sighed. "_Como quira._" He seemed more motivated by the idea of finishing quickly, than any fear of Akela. "_Me llamo David Salazar, y Mateo es mi hermano..._"

"Ah..._S__í_," Fred said after a pause. "_Continúe_." He pulled a note pad out of his pocket and tossed it to Akela. "Make yourself useful, Foxy Loxy."

"But how—?" Before he could finish his question, Fred turned away, and resumed his conversation with their prisoners. _'I cannot take notes if I do not know what is being said...'_ he grumbled to himself.

"_¿Quién es su otra tripulante? ¿Y dónde?_"

"_Su nombre es Gómez, y—_" one began.

"_¡Cállate la boca!_"his brother interjected. "_No diga a él._"

"_¿Por qué?_"

"_Porque él es el _enemigo_, estúpido._"

"_Iba a decir, 'No sé.' _Vos_ es el estúpido._"

"Well...?" Akela spoke up.

Fred sighed. "Mateo," he said, pointing to the man on Akela's left, "says the third man in their crew is named Gómez. He doesn't know where Gómez is, but Dah-_veed_," Acosta said, perturbed, as he motioned to the one with the cast, "keeps telling Mateo not to talk to me. And now, they're calling each other names."

"Mm-hm," the Clansman muttered as he wrote. "Good job, boss."

"Shut up."

That pattern, unfortunately, held over the course of the interrogation. Akela sighed and looked up at the clock, watching the seconds tick by while Acosta continued speaking with the tankers. Akela understood nothing of what was being said, except that David and Mateo seemed to bicker with each other every few minutes—ostensibly about what questions they should and should not answer. Acosta relayed what scraps of information he could glean from either.

Mateo seemed the most willing to cooperate, but that only went so far as he would explain, "_No contestar._" His brother David was much more antagonistic, and either refused to speak, or attempted to prevent Mateo from speaking, as well. Both, however, seemed somewhat amused and bemused by Acosta's speech—perhaps it was his accent or dialect, Akela wasn't sure—and would snicker or stifle a laugh at some of his questions and comments.

"_¿Dónde están sus jefaturas?_"

"_He dicho ya: nos no permiten para contestar a esa pregunta._"

Akela yawned, still waiting for some speech he could understand, and looked up at the clock again. As he leaned back against the wall, he spotted Randi standing in front of the door window. Apparently sensing his gaze, she glanced over at him, scowled a little, and then returned to watching the interrogation.

"_¿Adónde está el resto de su unidad militar fue?_"

David chuckled, and Mateo looked away, trying again not to laugh. "_Es divertido, pero soy cansado..._" one muttered.

"_Esto__ es molesta_," seconded the other.

Akela frowned. "Wait, someone got molested? What?"

"What??" Fred turned around, shaking his head. "No. No, he just said that this is _annoying_. It... Never mind." As he turned, he noticed Randi, and gave a brief wave.

"_Ella le ha estado esperando,_" said Mateo. "_Usted debe ir a ella._"

"_Sí,_" muttered David. "_Dejar, y coger a vos novia._"

Hearing this, Fred whipped back around, his face flushed in anger. "_¡Concha tu madre!_" he shouted, as he lunged across the table at David.

Akela rushed over, pulled Fred back by his shirt, and quickly caught him in a half nelson. Even as he dragged Fred away, the enraged man continued to flail his arms, trying to land a punch on the tanker.

"_¡Lanzarme!_" he snapped, still struggling, and then in English, "Let me go! I'm gonna _kill_ that little bastard!"

"You don't want to do that right now," Akela said, calmly. "You need to warm up and stretch properly before that kind of physical activity."

"I'm gonna kill him!"

"Trust me, it's just asking for a muscle cramp the next day."

The Spaniards just watched quietly, partly shocked but largely confused. "_Concha del mar..._" David repeated thoughtfully, after a moment. "_¿Era eso... insulto...?_"


	20. Chapter 20

_As usual, this took entirely longer than I'd hoped. Also, to alleviate some confusion about the last chapter, I'll go ahead and explain..._

_In Spain, the word "cojer" simply means "to pick up" in the same sense as the English phrase. In Mexico, however, it's considered a vulgarism. ("Recojer" is used instead.) So, while David meant "Go pick up your girlfriend," Fred heard "Go **** your girlfriend." Isn't Spanish _fun?

_Anyway, on with the show!_

* * *

Chapter 20

Randi leaned her head around the corner slowly, peering into the foyer. Fred was slumped back in the couch, arms crossed, glaring across the room at Akela. The Clansman, however, seemed fairly serene and merely continued to watch Acosta. Clearing her throat lightly, Randi stepped forward into the room. Her partner continued sulking, but Akela glanced up to acknowledge her.

"So..." she began hesitantly, "how is everything? Okay? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just _peaches_," Fred replied flatly.

"It would be better," Akela spoke up, "if I could trust our esteemed leader not to pummel that tanker."

"I did nothing of the sort," Fred shot back. "I just... I tripped."

The Clansman frowned. "You kept affirming—and I quote—'I'm gonna kill that little bastard.'"

"Just a misunderstanding."

"Of course."

"What did he say to you?" Randi asked.

Fred glanced up at her, then quickly averted his eyes. "Nothing. Just a stupid insult. Look, I'm over it." Then he grumbled to Akela, "Will you leave me alone now, so I can get some work done?"

"I'm not sure that is wise. You already let your anger get the better of you once," he muttered. _'Spheroids are so impulsive...'_

"Trade you?" Randi offered, as she sat down next to Fred.

"Hmph. Gladly." Needing no further persuasion, Akela stood, stretched, and walked off towards the comm room.

"Who's he to talk?" Fred grumbled aloud. "He was about to break a man's neck earlier."

"I sort of doubt that. Akela barks a lot more often than he bites, so to speak."

"You seem awfully unconcerned about him."

"Not right now, no," she said, putting a hand on her partner's shoulder. "I'm more concerned about you. Are you really okay? I haven't seen you lose your temper like that over an insult."

"Yeah, I know... That tanker just caught me on a bad day, is all," he lied.

Randi nodded and gave him a brief smile, as she headed towards the kitchen. "Alright. I'm going to make some coffee. Do you want any?"

"Nah, I'm just gonna get to work. But...thanks—for being understanding, I mean."

"Sure thing." She smiled again as Fred walked away. _'I wish I _did_ understand.'_ She grabbed the can of instant coffee, and began wrestling with the lid, which was never as easy to open as the label claimed. Finally, she resorted to stabbing a hole in the top of it with her knife. Just as she started to measure out the powder, there was a loud crash from another room.

"Are you okay, Fred?" she asked, not looking up from her chore.

"Fine!" he called in response, sounding a little bewildered. There was another rattling crash. "Just...getting a few things."

Randi took a sip of her coffee and arched her eyebrows curiously as she leaned back against the counter. A moment later, Fred skittered past the door with a tool box and a portable arc welder.

"Did you lift that from Zettle?"

"Wha—?" He stopped, looking back at her, and then turned a circle as if looking for something. "Oh, no," he said, finally realizing that she meant the welding unit. "I lifted this one from Harrison. Uh...don't tell him?"

The Clanswoman continued sipping her coffee as she watched her partner curiously. Rather than his usual blues jeans and tee shirt, he was now bundled up in a winter coat, cargo pants, thick scarf and a grey _ushanka_. He had his arm through the strap of a welding mask, and the welding gloves tucked under his arm. "Going some place?"

"Mm-hm," he replied, as he pulled the edge of the scarf up over his nose, and tugged the flaps of the hat down over his ears. "I figured it would be a good idea to set up some proximity alarms. You know—in case the Bullsharks decide to pay us a visit."

"Would you like some help?"

"Heh, if you could make it warmer outside, that'd be helpful," he said with a chuckle, then muttered more sourly, "...Frikkin' hate this cold..." He gathered his tools up again. "Really though, thanks for the offer, but I can take care of it. Besides, the work'll help keep my mind off things." He gave a departing wave, then opened the door, cringed a moment at the cold, and tromped out into the snow.

Randi sighed again and continued drinking her coffee. _'I really don't understand that man, some days...'_

* * * * *

Akela lay back on his bed with a dissatisfied grunt, clasping his hands behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling. In the back of his mind, he could see Helina Kerensky's face, her wrathful countenance like a war mask. He knew that if she were present this moment, her first action would be to slap him across the face and then curse the canister that birthed him.

_'I have to find those schematics. If I do not return with them soon, I may as well not return at all,'_ he thought glumly. _'Randi is certainly not making this easy for me... She probably has the schematics on her person. No... No, she _definitely_ does. She would trust only herself to safeguard such a thing.'_

Randi was hardly his biggest problem, though. Acosta still topped that list, especially with his self-appointed task of constructing proximity alarms. He had made no effort to keep the work a secret from Akela, forcing him to wonder if the alarms were, in fact, functional.

_'No... I doubt that is a bluff,' _Akela decided, _'though it may be an attempt to call _mine_. If he sees me investigating those alarms, it will only appear to confirm his suspicions. It will be a real chore to get Prewitt here, now.'_

He grunted again and sat up, grabbing his noteputer off the bedside table. There was nothing he could do about that at present, though. He decided to concentrate on the rather less important but also less frustrating task of decoding the images that he had picked up from the _Tiburónes'_ radio transmissions. Trying to be a little less glum, he convinced himself that this could perhaps yield something of interest. He opened the files—which were currently displayed as random sequences of text—and began running the decryption software.

The computer began crunching numbers, and displayed to him the estimated time remaining. The Clansman grimaced at the screen and picked up a book from his desk. "I could finish _'Voyna i mir'_ before this thing is done working..." he muttered aloud.

While Akela's statement was not entirely accurate, a number of hours had slipped by before the whirring hum of the computer's hard disks stopped. The software gave a little chime to signal that the work was complete. He looked up, setting his book down, and frowned. Displayed on the screen was a satellite image of an empty field; superimposed on that was a set of global coordinates. The Clansman took a closer look at the image, studying it curiously. Quikscell did not have any buildings near those coordinates, nor for that matter, did anyone else. He pulled up a satellite stream, and redirected the view to the coordinates on the image. The field was no longer empty.

_'Of course...'_ he thought, examining the cluster of vehicles that now occupied those coordinates. _'The mercenaries were not planning an attack, they were planning a retreat. It must have been part of a recall order. This is perfect...'_

Grinning, he opened a message to Prewitt.

* * * * *

Yawning, Randi picked up her towel and slid it back through her hair. Instant coffee, apparently, had not quite the same kick as the regular stuff. She wrung out some of the excess water, and then wrapped the towel around herself closely, gathered her clothes from the counter, and trotted back towards her room. She felt more relaxed after showering, but she was still concerned for Fred.

She paused at the door to her quarters, and took a few steps to the right, peering through the open door into Fred's room. It was empty. "Is he _still_ out there?" Randi muttered aloud, sighing. _'He has been outside all day, and it the sun went down an hour ago.'_

"Something the matter?"

Randi turned around quickly, slightly startled to see Akela standing in the hall, instead of her partner. "Oh, uh... No, it is nothing," she said, shaking her head a little.

"You seem upset."

For a moment, she debated whether to say anything. _'Of course, if I know Akela, he will not let the matter drop...'_ "It's Fred," she admitted. "He's been outside working on those proximity alarms all day. I just... I worry about him. He's going to exhaust himself."

"The best thing you can do is take care of yourself. That way, at least one of you is in fighting condition. Besides, I am sure Acosta will take a break from his work, eventually. The man may be somewhat _insane_, but he is not stupid," Akela replied, only partly joking.

Randi sighed again. "Hopefully, he will not make himself sick first. Even I would not relish working outside, right now." She bit her lip. "And besides that, he... It's a long story, but...the last time he was like this..." her voice trailed off as she recalled the events of their time on Solaris.

Akela shook his head. "Oh, I hardly think it is that bad. I know you always tend to worry a bit, though." He slid his fingers through her still-damp hair reassuringly, and smirked. "Just remember, sibkin, fear is the mind-killer."

"You always tell me that."

"And it is always true, _quiaff?_"

Randi smiled slowly. "Aff..."

The Clansman paused for a moment then, a little hesitantly at first, pressed a hand to her shoulder lightly, pulling her into a hug. "Things will work out," he said softly. _'I wish I did not have to do this,'_ he thought, regretfully. _'I do not want to hurt her.'_

His sibkin looked up suddenly, and stepped back from him. He turned to see what had caught her attention, and saw Fred standing at the end of the hall. The man's face was flushed in anger, and his knuckles almost white as he clutched his gloves in his fist. He looked back at Randi darkly and then walked off.

"Damned Clanners," he muttered.

"Fred!" Randi exclaimed. She pushed Akela away and ran after her lancemate. "What was that for? Why are you angry?" She trotted up to him and put a hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to look at her.

He spun around and pushed her hand away, taking a step back from her. "Why the hell do you think I'm angry?!" he snarled. "First you're practically neurotic, telling me that Akela's here to kill you, and now you're draping yourself on him?"

"That is not what it was! I do not have that kind of feeling for him," she insisted.

"So, what—you two are just bunk-buddies, now?" Fred scoffed. "What am I supposed to do when one minute you say he's a threat, and the next you're all over him? You know what that looks like, right? That looks like you're lying to me! That you've _been_ lying the whole damn time I've known you!"

"Fred, I—"

"What was I, then?! Your free ride until you could get back with Akela?"

"No! Kerensky, no! I would never—I could never..."

"And how am I supposed to believe that now? I _never_ pressured you to tell me anything that you didn't want to. I trusted you, Randi, and this is how you repay that trust?"

For a moment, Randi felt like her entire body freeze, as she remembered what Maro had told her. "Stop it!" she snapped angrily. The still moment had passed, but the hurt remained. "Stop acting like a child!"

"You lied—"

"I never lied!" she shouted, angrier still.

Before she knew what she was doing, she felt her first connect with her partner's chest. It was a reflex, but that did not matter now. He stumbled back and looked up at her, mouth agape, in shock. Randi jerked her hand back, fearfully. If ever there was a moment that she wished she could change, it was now.

"I... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry! I-I didn't mean that!" she said, stumbling over her speech in a panic.

Fred glanced back at her, a cold, wounded look, then turned and walked away silently.


	21. Chapter 21

_Just an aside not to everyone... While _"The Last Hunter"_ has not updated in months (so sorry!) it _*IS*_ still in progress. I simply haven't had much time to write, so I've been focusing my energy on concluding this story first. Once this one is finished, I can give _TLH_ my full effort._

_Now, _Mosin_ mentioned some actor suggestions for the characters. I thought I'd post my reply here for anyone else curious about that._

_Randi: Though she looks quite a bit different than what I've establish for Randi's features, I think Sasha Alexander could definitely work for the part. I'm sort of surprised I never thought of her before--I love NCIS!  
_

_Akela: Josh Duhammel isn't an actor I'm familiar with, but physically he looks rather close. Though, personally, I'd always thought that a somewhat younger Cliff Simon (Ba'al from Stargate) would be perfect for Akela's role. Those of you who've seen the show can probably see what I mean._

_Fred: Jim Belushi is an...interesting suggestion, but I really can't picture him for Fred's role. For one, he doesn't look even remotely like the character. (Fred has some very obvious Mexican ancestry, and thus dark hair, eyes, and a tan complexion.) Unfortunately, I can't think of anyone who bears a sufficient resemblance that could also play the part._

_(I have a bit of a hang up about casting people for a role when they don't look even remotely like the same ethnicity as the character. E.g. Jennifer Garner as the dark-haired, Greek Elektra. WTF, Marvel?)_

_All that said, _Hellcat_ posed a rather interesting solution. His suggestion was that we simply, "cast Johnny Depp as everyone--even the women." If not amusing, that would at least cut down on paper work. ;)_

_Anyway, on with the story!_

* * *

Chapter 21

_'Why do things always become so complicated?'_

Randi stared absently into the darkness as she leaned against the frame of the window, one arm pressed to the cold glass. With her free hand, she blindly traced over the pendant she wore, her fingers following the form of the onyx wolf inlaid on it. As she watched the snow dancing past the spotlights, she heard a quiet footfall behind her.

"Hello," Akela said slowly. His voice was a little hesitant, as he tested the waters.

Still looking out the window, Randi frowned. "Did you decide that you haven't caused me enough trouble, yet?"

"I did not come to cause trouble. I just wanted to talk." He gave a soft smile, though Randi couldn't see it. "I just...felt a little lonely."

"I'm sure there's a redlight district in town to satisfy that feeling."

He sighed, but kept his thoughts to himself. _'It is not that kind of lonely...'_ This was the truth. After a moment more of silence, he walked up beside her. "I didn't mean for that—any of that—to happen. I am sorry. If you want, I could talk to Acosta—"

"That's the last thing I want," she scoffed. "I think I understand now. You're not here to take my life, you're here to _ruin_ it."

"That is not true." The Clansman struggled for further words, but nothing he could say seemed right. There was no explanation that would help but the truth, and that was the one thing he could not tell her. _'Well, you got what you wanted. You split them up,'_ he chided himself. _'You are a real bastard.'_

"So, what do you want?" Randi prompted him again, interrupting his thoughts.

"I..." He fumbled for a moment to get his thoughts back on track. "Just a mission update. I found the location of _Los Tiburónes del Toro's_ base."

"Have you told Fred?"

"Actually," he replied, handing her a folder. "I thought it might be better if you informed him. Everything you need is in here."

She accepted it warily, and skimmed through the contents quickly. When she glanced up, Akela was already halfway down the hall. "Where are you going?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "I just have a few things to take care of." Pausing a moment, he turned back towards her and offered a faint, somewhat regretful smile. "Do not worry, sibkin. It will all be over, soon."

* * * * *

Fred dashed ahead through the sleet, pushing his _Hellhound's_ throttle to its limit. There was something unusually single-minded about his movement. He weaved through the snow drifts, trudging ahead determinedly; he rarely slowed, and never once stopped.

"Dingo, check your vector, please," Randi said, opening a channel to him. His nimble 50-tonner was quickly leaving her _Bushwhacker_ behind. She had to wonder if it was,at least subconsciously, intentional.

"Copy," was the only answer, as he slowed just enough to match her top speed.

He didn't want to be here, and neither did she. It was not so much the mission that was a problem, but the company. It had been hard enough just to walk in and hand her partner the mission maps earlier. Running a mission together was even worse, almost like some kind of suffocation.

Though she tried to tell herself she forgave him, Randi was still angry about the way her partner had reacted. He, of course, was still angry for all the same reasons that he had been. She could see in his eyes—the way he _didn't_ look at her—that he felt hurt, too. That just made her angry with herself. She knew there had to be a way to fix all of this, but she scarcely knew where or how to start.

Right now, though, the most important thing was the mission. Randi brought her attention back to the _Bushwhacker's_ HUD, keeping a careful eye for new radar signatures. She brushed the back of her hand across her brow lightly, wiping away a thin sheen of sweat, and shifted her shoulders a little uncomfortably. The cockpit felt unusually close today, like the the edge of claustrophobia.

Before she could fidget any more, the _Hellhound_ came to an abrupt stop up ahead of her. Her HUD displayed the nav point, designated Gamma, as being just barely more than one klick out from their position.

"Fox, this is Dingo. We've reached nav Beta."

The channel was rife with static from the storms, but after a moment, Akela's voice came through. "Copy, Dingo. The storms are blocking satcomm feed right now, but the last images I received showed minimal activity—just light, unarmored vehicles. Over."

"Copy that. Proceeding as planned."

"Orders?" Randi queried.

"Win," Fred replied simply. "You remember where the barracks is, I'm sure."

"Yes."

"Take it out. I'll deal with the mobile turrets. After that, we level the rest of the base. Commence radio silence and proceed. Dingo, out."

"Wilco. Black Wolf, out."

With that, Fred throttled up again and began circling around to the left. Randi broke off to the right, torso-twisting left to get a better view of the _Tiburónes'_ base as she neared it, and went to passive sensors. Through the haze she could just barely see the structures that comprised the base. Most seemed to be either flimsy prefab buildings or mobile units.

Scanning over the structures quickly, she spotted what Akela had previously deduced to be the barracks. She aimed, carefully lowering her cross hairs over it, and brought her finger up to the trigger. Just one salvo of her LRMs leveled the entire building, sending up a cloud of dust and splinters several meters.

"Dingo, this is Black Wolf. Objective completed. Over."

"Copy. Proceed with next objective. Out."

Randi nudged the _Bushwhacker's_ throttle forward, proceeding carefully past the remnants of the barracks. A series of well-placed shots from her large laser brought down the communications building head. That left only the main structure structure. The map images Akela had obtained showed it to be the largest building, but he was unable to determine exactly what it was. Though it did not appear to be a hangar or ammo dump, Randi decided to keep her distance from it, and back up carefully as she readied another LRM strike. She pulled the trigger, and watched the missiles rash into it, pulling down one corner of the building and not much more.

"Okay, not an ammo dump," she muttered aloud, as she took a step forward, this time firing her laser.

Instantly, the building exploded, throwing a shower of scrap into the air as a fireball bloomed out from its core. Startled, Randi backpedaled instinctively, and turned her 'Mech away from the inferno. She quickly realized, however, that the worst of it was over—now there was only smoke, and little flaming bits of wood drifting down from the sky—and walked off, feeling quite glad that she had not ventured any closer.

Behind the next building stood the inert form of a _Centurion_. Closer inspection revealed it to be the same 'Mech that she and Fred had fought just two days ago, still wearing the battle scars of that conflict. The lack of activity around it suggested that her attack on the barracks had eliminated its pilot.

"Dingo, I just found one of their 'Mechs—the _Centurion._ Orders?"

"Leave it alone," Fred replied. "I want to salvage anything we can, or at least strip it for parts. Over."

"Understood." She glanced around quickly. "Uh...Dingo? I do not see the _Trebuchet_ anywhere near it. Over."

"Keep looking, then. I don't want any surprises. Over."

"Roger that. Out."

Randi continued picking her way through the Tiburónes' base complex slowly, being careful to give all the buildings a wide berth. She did not want to make any more assumptions about what did and did not contain volatile materials. As she picked her way past a pair of trucks cautiously, she spotted what looked to be a small building, mostly covered in snow, sitting at the edge of the complex. It was not listed on the map. She crept slightly closer, and fired a single shot of her AC/10 at it as a test.

A very loud, somewhat metallic crack confirmed that she had hit her target, but the structure seemed relatively undamaged. She frowned and took another step forward, this time readying her ER large laser. Just as she lowered her targeting reticule back over the structure, a flurry of snow and ice chunks flew up from the base of it, and the entire thing jerked backwards.

"Enemy detected," reported the computer, a few seconds late.

"Freebirth!" Randi spat, as she turned on her radar and tried to pin her crosshairs over it, again. "Dingo, I just found one of their tanks—the _Goblin!_ It's live, running passive sensors!"

"Copy that. Keep after it. I'm moving to join you."

Biting her lip in concentration, Randi squeezed the trigger, hoping to hit the tank's broadside. By this time, however, it had throttled up to its full speed, and quickly sped past, unharmed. It, unlike the BattleMech she had seen, looked to be fully repaired. Despite having a lower top speed, the Goblin could easily out maneuver her in the complex, as its smaller chassis allowed it to squeeze between the buildings and rubble. That maneuverability and a large laser meant that it could not be ignored.

Turning quickly to track it, Randi fired off another round of her AC/10. That shot nicked the tank in the skirt, just above its drive sprocket, leaving a sizeable dent in the armor. It retaliated with its laser, slicing the beam across her _Bushwhacker's_ leg. Before she could get in another hit, the tank raced between a pair of buildings, disappearing from view. It was still on radar—stopped just out of sigh. Suddenly, and for no apparent reason, it bolted out from its hiding place and into the open.

Randi turned, following it, and fired her AC/10 again, punching in part of the main hull. The _Goblin_ fired its laser again, missing her torso by about half a meter as she stomped through the snow after it. Slowing a little, she pinned her crosshairs on the it, and waited for a missile lock. As soon as the crosshairs turned red, she squeezed the trigger, sending a flurry of LRMs chasing after the vehicle. The missiles swooped after it as it tried to evade, and crashed into its side, tearing up one of its wheels and part of the tread. The _Goblin_ slid wildly across the ice, only stopping when it slammed into a snow drift.

The comm lit up unexpectedly as she watched the tank try to free itself. "Black Wolf, what's your status?" Fred asked.

"Just finishing up this pest," Randi replied as she fired another salvo at the _Goblin,_ cracking open part of its hull.

"I could use some assistance over here. That _Patton_ they have came online and tried to punch a hole in my back."

"Roger, I am on my way." She sliced into the turret armor once more with her large laser and then, satisfied that the tank was immobile, turned and darted off to help her partner.

There was a beep from her console, and an enemy signature suddenly appeared on her radar. She slowed for a moment, wondering if perhaps the conflict between Fred and the _Patton_ had taken them further away than she thought. As she glanced down at her HUD to confirm the identity of the enemy unit, the frantic shriek of a missile lock warning quickly interrupted her thoughts. A blaze of LRMs lit up her viewscreen as they smashed the armor on her left arm and torso.

She throttled up, crashing the _Bushwhacker_ through the remains of the barracks, and twisted back to get a bead on her attacker. It was the _Trebuchet_ she had been looking for, as she suspected. A little hastily, she fired her autocannon. The shot went wide, missing the attacking 'Mech, but caused it to retreat a little.

Randi huffed a curse under her breath. She needed to close the distance, not scare it off. At-range, the Trebuchet had the advantage, but if she could lure it near, inside the minimum range of its LRMs, she could use the hitting power of her direct-fire weapons to shred up its armor. She turned quickly and stomped down on the throttle, trying to catch up to the 50-tonner.

"Dingo, I am engaging a _Trebuchet_," Randi said, opening a channel to Fred. "If you can break off from the _Patton_ and push this 'Mech back towards me, I can finish it off."

"Roger, Black Wolf. I'll be with you shortly."

Finally achieving a missile lock on the skittish _Trebuchet,_ Randi unloaded both of her LRM-5s into its torso. She could spot a burst of orange light and red-hot metal shards, followed by a plume of thick, black smoke where the missiles had impacted the 'Mech's armor. Unfortunately for her, the damage was largely centered on the BattleMech's empty left torso, leaving it free to pummel her with another salvo of its own missile.

She braced herself as the LRMs assailed her torso armor, peppering the armor with charred pockmarks wherever they hit. One thing she had come to appreciate about the _Bushwhacker_ was its slim profile, which in itself afforded some additional protection. That spared her center torso from the worst of the damage.

Still pressing her attack, she cut around to her adversary's side, pounding into its armor a second time with her missiles. The _Trebuchet_ slowed to turn and face her, giving her a little edge as she continued closing the distance between them. She only hoped that the pilot would not catch onto her strategy before Fred arrived.

"Enemy detected," the computer reported suddenly, with corresponding radar signature.

"Randi, I just picked up a cold-start. It's that _Centurion_," Fred said tersely, too perturbed with that event to use her call-sign. "There's an awful lot of mercs on this field, considering you smoked their barracks... You _did_ take it out, right?"

"Yes, of course! I do not under—" She cut herself off mid-sentence. "The _Goblin!_ Some of the Sharks' personnel must have been sleeping in its infantry compartment instead of the barracks." _'That is why it stopped earlier,'_ she thought, _'to let the MechWarriors leave.'_

"Augh, this was supposed to be easy! Why is it never easy?" he grumbled. "I'm going to try and get past this guy so I can join you. We can concentrate on the _Trebuchet,_ and then finish off the _Centurion_. Out."

"Roger. Out."

Randi bit her lip as both the _Centurion_ and her partner's _Hellhound_ moved in on her position. She watched her armor levels drop as the former slugged her 'Mech in the arm with its AC/10, but kept her focus on her own quarry. Fortunately, Fred was passing the _Tiburónes_' 'Mech easily, and was soon within range to use his large laser—the light gauss was a less practical choice in this weather. A spray of yellow could be seen through the flurries and the _Hellhound's_ laser clipped the _Trebuchet_ on its shoulder. It did relatively minor damage, but seemed to startle the pilot all the same. It darted forward, and Randi quickly moved to intercept it.

As she fired her own laser, stabbing the BattleMech in its gut, another slew of LRMs hammered into her arm and side, this time from the _Centurion._ Again, she ignored it, though the smoke that was puring off her armor tempted her to do otherwise. The _Trebuchet_ was starting to crumple, however. With a 'Mech on each side, it was quickly running out of places to go, and as it slowed to turn and chew on the _Hellhound_, Randi spotted her opportunity. She slammed down on the throttle, bringing her 'Mech inside the minimum range of the _Trebuchet's_ LRMs.

The pilot, preoccupied with attacking Fred, only noticed too late that at this distance, it could do little more than tickle the _Bushwhacker's_ armor. She opened fire with her autocannon and large laser simultaneously, punching a hole clean through the 'Mech's battered armor, and into the internals. It scraped at her with its medium lasers, but that did little to deter her.

Meanwhile, Fred broke off to deal with the _Centurion_ as planned. As the snow cleared from the air for just a moment, he gave the opposing 'Mech an experimental punch with his light gauss and managed to score a hit to its center torso. After that, however, he returned to using his laser.

Suddenly, both of the _Tiburónes_ unloaded all of their missiles onto the _Hellhound._ Fred staggered as the LRMs bashed his 'Mech from both sides, armor shrapnel spraying from its hull like confetti. Randi glared and unloaded her direct-fire weapons into the _Trebuchet_ angrily, pounding it until it crashed into the snow, then stabbed the _Centurion_ with a salvo of LRMs. It quickly began to retreat once its companion fell, and switched its attention to Randi. Fred, now recovered, darted past it closely and pummeled its aft armor with his C-STRKs.

He opened the general frequency and began shouting to the MechWarrior in Spanish angrily. Randi supposed he was ordering the pilot's surrender, considering the state of its armor, but would not have been surprised if there were some less civil words, as well.

Fred was met with silence, at first, prompting him to punch the _Centurion_ with his missiles again, and repeat his order. "_¡Entrega! No puede ganar._" Then, he added, "_No le matará. Quisiéramos solamente que usted se fuera._"

"_...Entregamos,_" the MechWarrior replied finally, and powered down.

Randi slowed, keeping her crosshairs on the _Centurion_ cautiously. "Well...?"

Fred heaved a sigh of relief. "They've surrendered."


	22. Chapter 22

_Author's notes:_

_Finally back on track--again. I really wish had some kind of journal or feed system so I could tell people the status of a story. For anyone who checks my DA page (you don't have to be a member to see it) I do usually add a note in my journals as to when I'm close to finishing a chapter. So, anyway, apologies for taking so long, especially so close to the end. Here's hoping everyone enjoys it._

_Rogue, Mosin, cHr0n0sPh3r3, and Pip, I really appreciate the reviews! Keep 'em coming._

_Pip, in reply to your comments: First, Clanners are perfectly capable of using contractions, but typically choose not to do so. Like any "vocal tic," it's a habit that can be changed. Randi *did* use regular Clan speech for many years but began began using contractions later, to make herself less suspicious.(She spoke a lot more formally in the first Black Wolf story.)_

_Now, I'm not really sure I understand the point you're trying to make about Akela. Most Clans haven't extended Zellbriegen to InnerSphere units for over a decade by the time this story takes place (3068); and none of the text states that the Wolves "ganged up" on the other unit, either. As for Akela's offer to leave without a fight, that actually has more to do with his character than his Clan—but that is explored more throughout the rest of this story, and some of the other series in which he's appeared._

_In any case, I definitely appreciate the thoughtful commentary. Thanks!_

* * *

Chapter 22

"Well, Mr. Acosta, I'm glad to say that you've proven me wrong. Your unit was worth the money, after all." Singh gave a good-natured chuckle. "Your tactical officer said that you've already negotiated a surrender with _Los Tiburónes del Toro_, as well."

"Yes. We're letting them leave with no further conflict," Fred replied. "For all the trouble they gave us, the Bull Sharks know when they're beaten."

There was a somewhat startled cough on Singh's end of the comm, followed by a wary query of, "So, they're going to leave? Just like that?"

"Don't sound so surprised. They're mercs," Fred explained. "They came here on a contract, not a creed they'd be willing to die for."

"Are you're sure they're really going to keep their word, though?"

"They accepted surrender because they wanted to cut their losses while they still can. It's bad business to stick around, and the only thing they really want is to get their tankers back. Now, I already had Fox send the Salazar brothers on their way, so that takes care of my end of the deal. The Sharks should be out of here within about forty-eight hours."

"We'll certainly be glad to see them leave," the Quikscell rep huffed. "I'm sure you have your own affairs to attend to now. Contact me again tomorrow, and we can hold a full debriefing. I want to know what you've learned about their operations, and discuss your damage reimbursement."

"Will do. Over and out."

Randi glanced to her left out the viewscreen, watching the _Hellhound_ as it continued on course, maintaining a cruising speed. She kept pace a little ways behind Fred and leaned back, shifting a little against the command couch to get comfortable. The rush of adrenaline during the fight and subsequent decline of the same felt somewhat cathartic to her. She felt calmer now and more in control of her emotions.

_'I need to talk to Fred,'_ she affirmed to herself, _'now that the battle is over.'_ She frowned a little, still watching his 'Mech. It would not be easy, but she felt that things between them would only worsen the longer she let it go.

"Fred...?" she asked quietly, as she opened the private channel.

"Yeah?"

"I, uh... wanted to talk to you..."

"Okay." His tone seemed receptive so far.

She continued."...About last night..."

There was a noticeable pause, followed by a very stiff reply of, "What about it?"

"I..." She looked down at her console for a moment, then looked back at the _Hellhound_. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry for," Fred muttered. "It's none of my business."

Randi scoffed lightly. "Well, I'm still sorry I _hit_ you."

"Oh." After a short pause, he replied, his voice more uncertain than unwilling, "Er, thanks, then. I'm...sorry I blew things out of proportion."

"No, it... Let's just let it go. Forgive and forget, yes?"

"Yeah, I—" Fred cut himself off suddenly. "What the hell...?"

"What is wrong?"

He suddenly slammed down on his 'Mech's throttle and turned away sharply. "Something just triggered the proximity alarm! Dammit..."

Randi forced her heavy-class to lumber after the smaller BattleMech as she tried to catch any glimpse of the threat on her sensors. "I do not see anything..."

"Dingo, Black Wolf," Akela said, breaking into the conversation, "be advised that the proximity alarms have just been activated."

"We know! Damned _Tiburónes!_" Fred cursed. "I let them go, and they turn around and ambush us!"

"Uh, Fred...? I don't think that's one of them," Randi said, as her BAP suddenly picked up a new radar contact. "It's a custom config _Dragon_." Just as she finished speaking, a bright flash lit up the snow-laden air, blazing towards them. "Incoming!"

She slammed the throttle back to zero and turned sharply, then accelerated again. The missile salvo flew past her and vanished into the veil of snowy air. It had harmed neither of the 'Mechs, but that was the intent.

"That was a warning shot! Next one's gonna draw _blood_," a man announced over the open channel. Despite the static on the comm, his Black Hills accent, as well as the arrogant yet angry tone of his voice easily identified him. "Surrender now, and I'll go easy on you."

Fred immediately took up the offense upon hearing him, pushing the throttle to maximum, and moving the engage the heavy-class BattleMech. "Go to hell, Marcus!" he snapped, punctuating his exclamation with a gauss round.

Randi backed up a little, trying to examine the situation before getting locked into the fight. Her 'Mech had taken a beating during the engagement with the Bull Sharks, but Fred's _Hellhound_ had suffered even more damage. Marcus Prewitt's _Dragon_ outweighed each of their 'Mechs and had fresh armor.

"Fine, if that's how you wanna play this, then it's your funeral!" The _Dragon_ picked up its pace and fired another salvo of LRMs. This time, the missiles slammed into the _Hellhound_, peeling off some of the armor on its already damaged torso.

"Fred, wait!" Randi exclaimed, hitting the private channel as she throttled up and moved in to backup her partner. "I need to know what your plan is."

"My plan is to beat the crap out of 'im," her partner snarled. "Prewitt shouldn't even _be_ here! I don't know how the hell he managed to find us, let alone work up the nerve to leave Solaris—he's a total cosmophobe."

"Look, we cannot just charge him head-on; he would tear us apart. I think we can outmaneuver him, though."

"Right. If I distract him, do you think you can close in for a kill shot?"

"I will have to," Randi said. She knew that the A/C 10 and ER large laser her 'Mech carried were the only weapons that could deal out significant damage to the _Dragon._

"Then it's settled," Fred agreed, adjusting his course. He darted off, the form of his 'Mech quickly becoming lost behind the thick screen of snow in the air. "Get ready to move."

"Roger." Randi chewed her lip for a moment, then began to pull back away from the fight, and turned off her radar. Once that was done, she took the _Bushwhacker_ back up to a run, and began picking her way through the snowdrifts, moving up to flank Prewitt. At this distance, she could see neither him nor her partner, but only the glow of weapons fire as the two exchanged shots. A gold-orange stream of what must have been LRMs poured through the air and splashed against something solid, illuminating part of its outline momentarily. It upset her that Fred was taking the brunt of the abuse in this fight, but so long as the two men kept up their attacks, she could discern their locations.

She turned her radar back on and brought her index finger up to the trigger as she closed the distance, trying to keep the _Dragon_ in her sights. The red large laser beam hit the heavy 'Mech squarely in the back, piercing a hole in the comparatively thin rear armor. Prewitt was quick to retaliate, launching a salvo of LRM-10s as he turned to face her. The missiles plowed into her left torso, stripping through the weakened armor and down into the internals. A blaze sprung from the _Bushwhacker's_ devastated left side, which was soon accompanied by thick smoke from burning myomer and electronic components.

"Critical hit: left torso. Critical hit: LRM. Critical hit: Machine gu— Weapon destroyed. Weapon destroyed," the computer reported. The armor levels on her HUD plunged and the CASE system quickly engaged, dumping the bin for her machine guns and missiles to prevent an ammunition explosion.

While Randi was still reeling from the damage, Fred slugged Prewitt's 'Mech in the torso with his light gauss, only to be hammered with an LBX slug from his adversary.

"I'm almost out of gauss ammo," Fred said, as he tried to distance himself a bit from the _Dragon._ "All I've got left after that are my C-STRKs, and I don't have too many salvos left."

"Fall back and let me deal with him, then."

"Oh, hell, no—"

"Fred, you do not have anything left to fight with!"

"And you're not in much better shape! You can't out-range him without your LRMs now, and you can't outrun him!"

Randi gave a huff of frustration and tried to get her crosshairs lined up with the _Dragon_ again as she switched to her A/C 10. "It's better than both of us dying!" she snapped, as she fired the autocannon. "Wait, I have an idea!" She quickly switched frequencies, not waiting for a reply. "Akela, We need some help out here!"

"Copy that. What can I do?"

"I... I need you here on the field," she said, a little hesitant and a little distracted as Prewitt raked her right torso with his 'Mech's LBX-5. Her armor levels had dropped, but, fortunately, the damage had not endangered her remaining weaponry. "Look," she continued, still trying to evade the _Dragon,_ "I know you said that you did not want to fight for us, but—"

"Very well," Akela replied calmly. "It will take a few minutes to bring my 'Mech online. Out."

"Wait!"

"Yes?"

Randi bit her lip nervously, then sighed. "Take _Nyx_," she said slowly. "You know the passcode."

"Aff, Black Wolf," he replied with the merest chuckle.

As she closed the channel, the silence was quickly replaced with the bark of gunfire. The _Dragon_ clawed Fred's BattleMech with a combination of LBX fire and still more LRMs, shredding up the ferro-fibrous on its legs and hip. Randi could see large chunks of armor bursting from the _Hellhound_, as Fred tried to endure the barrage. He returned fire with his medium lasers, but the beams dissipated short of their target. As Prewitt circled around the _Hellhound_, the smaller 'Mech turned to face him, bringing its guns to bear quickly. A loud crack reverberated through the air, and the _Dragon_ doubled over, shrapnel spraying from its midsection.

Fred began to close in on the reeling 60-ton 'Mech in front of him, running full speed, as he attempted to get within range to use his lasers and C-STRKs. By this time, however, there was little hope of his machine surviving much further punishment. His BattleMech was starting to look like a mechanical zombie, with armor "skin" and myomer muscles hanging off of its exposed endo-steel bones.

"Fred, fall back!" Randi yelped, watching him as she, too, tried to close in on the _Dragon_. "Akela is on his way to assist us—just fall back until he gets here, _please_."

The _Hellhound_ seemed to hesitate for an instant, then turned and began to retreat. "Fine," he relented, increasing his speed. "I'll see if I can get one last gauss shot in and—"

Before he could finish, Prewitt, now recovered, slashed the _Hound's_ rear torso with its medium lasers, spilling molten armor down the back of the Clan 'Mech. "Goin' someplace, pal?" he taunted.

"Prewitt!" Randi yelled over the open channel, purely to get the man's attention. Hearing her, he turned, bringing his guns to bear on her 'Mech, and gave her a dose of his lasers. She slugged his 'Mech in the torso with her autocannon, desperately trying to hold his focus.

Just as another wash of red light carved up her armor, a blue dot suddenly appeared on her radar. The distinctive form of a _Mad Cat_ appeared through the snow, trotting through the drifts with ease. The aura from its jumpjets illuminated the black OmniMech as it took a running leap and landed in the snow, now a few hundred meters to Randi's right.

"Apologies for taking so long," Akela said calmly, as the hulking black 'Mech turned towards her.

She heaved a sigh of relief as Prewitt's _Dragon_ turned towards the newly arrived 'Mech, raising its guns. Before Prewitt could fire, however, a stream of electricity jetted from one of the _Mad Cat's_ gun pods. Randi watched in horror as the bolt connected with the left leg of Fred's _Hellhound_. Prewitt moved aside calmly as another PPC blast all but disintegrated the limb. The second-line 'Mech slumped weakly and crashed into the ground on its side with a groan of bulking metal.

As the _Mad Cat_ now turned towards her, Randi felt her blood run cold. She could not—would not—believe what had just happened. "No..." She shook her head in denial and hit the comm. "Fred? Fred! Answer me, dammit!" she screamed frantically.

"I suggest you power down..." Akela said coolly, as he took another step towards her.

Looking back towards him, a wild fury quickly replaced the numbness of shock in her body and mind. Randi jerked the _Bushwhacker's_ targeting reticule over the _Cat_ and mashed the alpha strike, allowing that to be her only reply. Remaining silent as well, her sibkin merely turned away, and torso-twisted to face her while he moved. Then, with a cold sort of precision, he lined up her 'Mech and blasted its hip with a PPC bolt.


	23. Chapter 23

_Here it is, finally! The last chapter of BW3! There's one more update after this--the epilogue, so the story's not entirely over just yet._

_I need to give a huge thank-you to Hellcat once more for all his help in writing this. I literally couldn't have finished it without him. And thanks to all the readers and reviewers, too! I'm surprised (and grateful) to see everyone's stuck with me in spite of the delays._

_The epilogue will be up, soon--by which, I mean within this month, for once. Enjoy the last chapter, everyone!_

* * *

Chapter 23

"Akela, you bastard!" Randi shrieked angrily as he pulled her out of the _Bushwhacker's_ cockpit. The Clansman quickly swiped her knife, and then let her tumble down over the side of her _Bushwhacker_; she scrambled back to her feet as soon as she landed. "You freebirth _bastard!_" Grabbing the first rock she could find, she gave an angry but unintelligible scream, and hurled it at him.

The Clansman stepped aside to dodge as looked down at her, and then gave an unconcerned shrug. "I get that a lot..." He jumped down to the ground in front of her and began approaching her slowly. "Now, please, do not make this any more troublesome than it already is."

"Or what—you will kill me?! You might as well have!" she screamed. "You already destroyed the only reason I had to live!"

Akela stopped, his posture tense, then shook his head. "I did not kill your _coffinmate_," he said dismissively. He continued, "But Marcus most certainly _will,_ unless I convince him to do otherwise. If you cooperate, I will intervene, _quiaff?_"

Randi was hesitant to fold to her sibkin, but she could see little choice. Fighting Akela would be just short of a gamble. If she did win, he would make her pay dearly for it, and she would still have to face Marcus Prewitt afterwards. By that time, her partner might already be dead.

"A-aff," she replied.

The Clansman merely smiled, then began trudging through the snow, turning his back on her. That, she knew, was a sign that he trusted her. She could not fathom why he would. Even so, it was not misplaced; she followed after him silently, concerned only with rejoining her partner. As they neared the fallen _Hellhound,_ however, her pace quickened. Red splotches polluted the otherwise perfect snow, drawing out a loose, unwieldy a trail around the 'Mech. She sprinted ahead of Akela, the sting of the wind replaced with a sickening hot-cold fear welling up inside her.

That fear was confirmed as she made her way around one of the BattleMech's huge feet. Fred stood knee deep in the snow, battered and panting to catch his breath. He was covered in blood, though how much of it was his own, she couldn't tell. Before she could call out to him, Prewitt launched another attack, and the two men returned to trading blows. Fred grabbed the Solaran by his jacket, pulling him forward, and thrust a foot into his enemy's stomach. Prewitt faltered, pained by the blow, yet managed shove Fred away in order to stave of further strikes. Still determined, Fred caught his arm and moved to put him in a hold. Prewitt lashed out in retaliation, striking him in the temple. As Fred stumbled, Prewitt rushed forward, hooking one of the mercenary's arms behind his back, and bashed his head into the side of the _Hellhound._

"I'm gonna smear your brains all over this god damned 'Mech, Fred," Prewitt snarled, shoving his adversary's face into the metal again.

"Marcus, stop," Akela called, as Randi ran up ahead. "We still need him."

Prewitt looked up and glowered, first at Akela, then briefly at at Randi. "What the _hell_ for?!"

"Just trust me. Now, leave him be, and let's get inside before we freeze."

With a reluctant sigh, Prewitt glared and dropped Fred unceremoniously, then tromped off towards the building.

"Fred? Fred, are you okay?" Randi asked, a bit panicked, as she rushed over and crouched down beside him.

"Ugh, no... No, not really. God, that hurt..." he muttered, cradling the side of his bloodied face with a groan.

She grabbed a cloth from her pocket quickly. "Here, let me help." Without waiting for permission, Randi pried his hand away from his face and pressed the cloth to the cuts. "Where else are you injured?"

"You two can play doctor later," Akela interrupted, holding up a pair of zip ties. "Now, please, I don't want to have to _drag_ either of you inside."

* * * * *

"Okay, just so we're on the same page... What the hell was that about?" Marcus demanded, as soon he shut the door to the "detention center." He looked back in through the small window, sneering as Fred sat down on the floor next to Randi awkwardly. Not leaving anything to chance, both of the mercenaries had their wrists bound behind their backs with zip ties. "I thought you wanted that mangy Outworlder dead, too, so you could get yer girl back."

"Hm, yes, that was the plan."

"So, I don't exactly see how sparing him and then letting them stay together figures into that plan."

Akela ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "If I kill him now, it will simply make her more angry at me." He kept a dismissive tone, still trying to play his part while coming up with an acceptable answer. "Besides, hasn't he cost you a lot of money with all his tricks?"

Marcus' expression turned even more sour.

"Then that's all the reason you need," said Akela, giving him a devious smile. "If you keep him alive a little longer, you can get your pound of flesh and still break even. I'm sure you can find a way to persuade him to divulge his banking information, and in the mean time, I can deal with Randi."

The Solaran leaned back against the wall, and rubbed his temples, still glaring. "Damned goatee-wearing little sumbitch." Marcus grimaced. "Er, not you. You're right, though." He gave a huff and stood again, adjusting his holster. "I'll wait 'til we get the info."

Akela nodded and headed towards the MechHangar. "I will return shortly, then. I have a little 'cleanup' to do before we can bring in our 'Mechs."

As he neared the door, he slowed his movements and his breathing, trying to "tune" his hearing to what was going on inside the hangar. There was a steady clink-clank of metal as the Techs worked, and one of them whistled a tune to keep with the rhythm of their labor. The whistling ceased abruptly, and the two men began to talk; most of it was little more than mumbling after it filtered through the door. When the conversation ended, he could hear one of them walk away towards the other end of the hangar. That was the opportunity he had been hoping to find.

Quietly, Akela budged the door open and peered inside. Ned was standing on the catwalk with his back to the door, mumbling something to himself about actuators. Akela pulled a handkerchief out of his vest pocket as slipped through the door, and walked up behind the Tech quickly. Making one swift motion, he slipped one hand up under Ned's right arm, and the other over his shoulder, gagging the man in the process. Capitalizing on the advantage of surprise, he swiped Ned's right leg out from under him and dragged back behind a stack of containers.

The Tech clambered to free his arms and get his feet back on the ground, but Akela had twenty more kilograms and Warrior training in his favor. It was hardly a contest. The Clansman shifted his weight and pushed Ned onto his stomach, planting his knee in the other man's back to keep him pinned.

"Stop struggling," Akela whispered. "I do not _want_ to hurt you but I _will_, if you make this difficult." That advice seemed to go unheard, and the man continued to try quite unsuccessfully to work his way out of the hold. In response, Akela merely ground his knee down into Ned's spine. The struggling stopped. Once his captive was cooperating, he tied off the gag behind the man's head quickly, then started binding his wrists together behind his back with a zip tie.

Just as he sat up to bind Ned's ankles, Akela heard clink of metal behind him. He whipped around, throwing his left arm up in front of his face as he ducked. A wrench impacted him on the ulna, numbing his lower arm as it struck the nerve; at the other end was Harrison. Akela swept his right foot forward, hitting the older man in the ankle while bringing himself to his feet, and swung his elbow up into Harrison's jaw. Surprisingly, Harrison managed to catch his balance and counter Akela's strike with a blow of his own, landing a solid punch at the Clansman's armpit. Akela grit his teeth at the sharp, sudden pain, and swung his arm around clamping his hand down on Harrison's elbow. He followed through by digging his thumb into the inside of the Tech's elbow and pressing his palm against the joint to force it backwards. Before he could turn himself perpendicular to his opponent and finish the move, Harrison shot his leg forward, planting it in Akela's midsection and shoving him backwards.

Retreating two more steps, he readied himself for the older man's next move. '_So much for being nice about this_,' he thought indignantly, flexing the fingers of his left hand as the feeling began to return to his arm. He noted, unhappily, that there was a bloody gash where the wrench had struck him. '_I deserved that, though,_' he thought to himself, '_for assuming he was a civilian._' He offered the Tech a faint smile, but did not relax his stance. "I am running out of empathy very quickly. If you surrender, I won't harm you. If not—"

"I'll keep beating your ass." Harrison glared at him, holding a solid ready stance and his wrench. He moved forward, but rather than attacking Akela directly, he slammed his shoulder into a stack of crates, sending them toppling down toward the younger man.

"_Savashri!_" Akela hissed, jumping back. He glanced around quickly, now finding himself cornered. Thinking quickly, he grabbed one of the smaller crates and hurled it at Harrison, using that distraction to buy himself a few seconds to move. As Harrison blocked the crate, Akela darted forward and threw his left fist straight at the Tech's face. His knuckles slammed into the man's cheekbone, but the real objective was more wounding. As Harrison went to block a second strike, Akela slammed his foot into his opponent's thigh. Harrison staggered, his leg buckling underneath him. As he fell, Akela sprang forward, quickly catching him and blood-choking him. Harrison continued his attempt to fight, but he was not quite fast enough to avoid unconsciousness. With a huff and a growl, Akela laid the older man down on the floor, then retrieved zip-tied his wrists and ankles soundly. He made one last sweep of the hangar and, finding the Ned was here he had left him, headed for he door.

He shook his left arm again, trying to dispel the last of the stinging needle prick sensation, and sighed as he noted the damage. "Marcus," he called, stepping back into the main building. "It's all clear."

"Good." The Solaran trotted up to him, but stopped short, cringing. "What happened to your _arm?_"

"A wrench happened to it," Akela muttered, as he walked into the kitchen, washing his bloodied forearm in the sink, "but never mind that. We can bring the 'Mechs in, now."

"Eh, they'll keep. However, your girlfriend's been doing a lot of pacing and she's giving me death glares—serious I-will-eat-your-soul kind of death glares."

Akela frowned, wrapping his lower arm in a towel. "I will go talk to them." He brushed past Prewitt, not waiting for a reply, and walked into the holding room. "Randi. Fred," he said calmly.

"Traitorous freebirth," Randi replied, sneering.

"Says the _mercenary_..." he replied evenly. He noticed Fred looking at his arm and smirked. "The _solhama_ put up a good fight."

"Harrison? What did you do to him?!" Fred demanded angrily.

"I'm fine. Thank you for asking. And to answer your question, very little. He is simply unavailable for the time being. The scrawny one, too. Uh, Nate?"

"Ned," Randi corrected, glaring at him.

"Well, they are both fine. I hope you will appreciate that later. Do you know how hard it is to subdue someone that you do _not_ want to hurt?" He pulled the bandage a little tighter and looked back up at the mercenaries. "Now, enough chat. We need some information."

Fred looked down at the floor, then back to Akela warily. "If I don't comply?"

"Marcus will kill you," he replied, shrugging.

"Er... And if I do?"

"I'll keep Marcus from killing you." Akela stole a glance over his shoulder, quickly, and lowered his voice. "I understand you may doubt me. However, you should also understand that your death would neither benefit me nor further any goals I may have."

"Like I give a rip about that. What about Randi?"

The Clansman just scoffed. "I find fratricide to be a particularly distasteful activity. In any case, she is irrelevant. You, Fernando Acosta, are the only person in this room whose life has any inherent value."

"What? Why me?" He looked over at Randi, confused. "But, she—"

"_She_ doesn't care if she lives or dies, only if _you_ do."

Randi sighed and bowed her head. Akela's observation was correct, of course. "What do you want, then?" she asked, trying not to look at her partner.

Rather than answer, Akela merely leaned back in his chair, looking over his shoulder as Prewitt entered the room. He motioned for the mercenaries to stand and follow him, into the foyer. Akela walked behind them, ensuring that they could not turn and run.

"How's the little heart-to-heart going?"

Akela chuckled. "She's stubborn."

"Of course, she is," he muttered, directing the captives to kneel down on the floor. "You two have a very _odd_ relationship, huh?"

"It's complicated."

"You know, I'm kinda tired of getting screwed over by my associates," Prewitt said, taking his gun from its holster and switching off the safety. "So this time, I think I'm gonna jump ahead of the game."

"Marcus, I am not a threat."

Prewitt smirked and turned to face Akela, aiming swiftly, and squeezed the trigger. The Clansman's eyes widened as the crack of the gunshot filled the room. There was a spray of blood from his head, and he slumped to the ground without so much as a groan. "No, you aren't."

Randi felt her muscles lock, unable to even blink as her entire body froze in shock. All she could do was stare, absorbing the scene: Akela's crumpled body, the pool of blood and the shell casing on the floor. She felt herself begin to tremble slightly.

"My sibkin," she murmured faintly, dazed. She could scarcely believe it had happened. '_He just killed my...brother._' She bowed her head as the shock released its grip on her, tears welling up in her eyes. "Why...?"

"Like I said, I'm tired of getting the raw end of a deal. I'm also tired of sharing my cuts. Now," Prewitt continued, walking over to her. "I'd like those schematics. And don't try to pull any tricks. That just wastes my time and will end badly for you." He gestured towards Akela's body for emphasis.

She bit her lip, trying to stop her tears. "I... I just..."

"My office," Fred interrupted. "There's a safe in there. That's got...well, everything. Bank information, passwords, routing numbers. All of it. The combination is written down on a piece of paper."

"Where?"

"I don't remember. One of the desk drawers, I think."

Prewitt gave him a suspicious look. "You don't have it memorized?"

"Do I _look_ like the kind of person who memorizes things like that?" He sighed. "I'll go look for you, if you want."

"No, you'll stay put," Prewitt growled, stepping back. "Both of you." He glanced from Randi to Fred, then turned and headed for the office.

She looked back at her partner uncertainly. "Why did you tell him that?" she whispered. "He'll kill you for lying."

"He'll kill me, anyway," Fred replied somberly. "Now, I want you to go to the MechHangar. There's probably something in there that can cut through these zip ties. As soon as you're free, take the _Shadow Cat_ and run."

"I can't leave you!" she insisted, keeping her voice low. "And what about Ned and Harrison?"

"Assuming they're still alive, they'll be fine. Prewitt doesn't have anything against them. Now, go, before he gets back. That's an _order_."

She sighed and nodded. "Okay." Randi laid back and, with a bit of effort, brought her arms around in front of her, then stood. She looking back at him for a moment, wanting to speak, but her words lodged in her throat. Fred just gave her a faint smile. '_Orders be damned!_' she thought, turning away quickly and heading for the door. '_I'm not going to let him die._'

Entering the hangar, she could see neither of the Techs. That was disconcerting, but she didn't have time to search for them at the moment. Looking back towards the 'Mechs, she noticed an armor panel not yet installed. She knelt down beside it, hooking the zip tie on the edge of the panel, and began rubbing it back and forth furiously in a sawing motion, until finally, it broke. Wasting no more time, she got back on her feet, grabbed a hammer from the floor, and ran back to the main door, hoping she wasn't too late.

Fred looked up as she walked into the room, surprised and nervous. "Randi," he hissed, "I told you to go."

"Did you really think I would listen?" She took him by the arm, helping him to his feet, and tucked the hammer under her arm while she undid the zip ties around his wrists.

"Heh, I guess I ought to know better by now." He rubbed his wrists lightly and smiled back at her. "Thanks. What's the plan, then?"

She held up the hammer again. "Ambush."

"Good plan." Fred turned around, looking for an improvised weapon of his own, then stopped suddenly. "Uh, what happened to...?" His voice trailed off uncertainly, as he pointed to the pool of blood on the floor. The body it had come from was missing.

A pained and terrified scream echoed down the hall suddenly. The mercenaries took off, following the outcry to Fred's office. Inside, Prewitt was standing with his back against the wall, his face drained of color, and his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. Akela stood in front of him, blood still soaking his face and clothes, and smiled as he emptied Prewitt's gun and tossed it aside.

"Y-you shouldn't even be alive!"

"That's what happens when you combine small caliber and very poor aim," Akela said. "You know, I was going to let you walk away from this. For obvious reasons, however, I've changed my mind."

"Oh, god... I-I'll do whatever you want! Anything! Just don't kill me!" Prewitt whimpered, cradling his right hand. It looked as though several of his fingers had been broken.

"I'm not going to kill you." Akela's smile faded, replaced with a dark, furious expression. His eyes glinted with a malice he hadn't shown in years. "I'm going to see just how many of your bones I can shatter _without_ killing you. Then I'm going to leave you like that." Making good on his threat, he grabbed Prewitt's uninjured hand and started crushing his fingers.

Randi stepped back from the door and began walking back towards the MechHangar, unwilling to watch the mauling about to ensue. Fred followed, a bit more hesitantly. She guessed that he felt some qualms about not intervening. As far as she was concerned, however, Prewitt was getting what he deserved for trying—repeatedly—to kill her partner. "We should find the Techs," she said quietly, as more cries of pain drifted out through the door.

* * * * *

Randi rubbed her hands together lightly as she stood staring onto the battlefield just outside the building. Both the _Bushwhacker_ and Fred's _Hellhound_ lay prone, dusted with a layer of snow, while _Nyx_ stood tall in the center of the field. If not for the presence of the 'Mechs, she might have believed this day was all just some nightmare. She certainly wanted to believe that.

The door creaked open, and Akela walked up beside her.

"Is Prewitt...?"

He leaned on the railing with his uninjured arm, and ignored her comment. "I hope you do not mind that I relieved you of a few bottles of aspirin. I will need it for the trip," he said, tracing his fingers gingerly over the graze wound trailing back across his scalp. "The medtechs will have a field day stitching this up when I get back."

"You are leaving?"

"Yes," he replied. "I just came to collect one last thing before I leave."

"The _Black Wolf_," she said, stating rather than asking. "Until now, I thought you were here to kill me."

He gave her a faint smile. "No. I just need the schematics."

"Why didn't you tell me that is what you were after?"

"For the same reason you did not tell me you had it." He reached up to her neck and took hold of her necklace, tugging it away gently. He retrieved his knife and jammed it into the back of the pendant, rocking the blade back and forth, until a small panel popped open. Carefully, he removed a computer chip a bit smaller than his thumbnail. "Radcliffe told me he gave you an archive, so you could keep it safe."

"I never even knew it was in the necklace."

"That was the idea."

She nodded and turned away for a moment to retrieve the paper copy of the schematics from her shirt. "This probably is not much use, then, but take it. It is uncomfortable, anyway."

He chuckled and nodded, tucking the chip and the paper copy away securely. "With your permission, I'll copy and purge the information from _Nyx_. The encryption you used is, by the way, impressive."

"I learned from the best," she said, taking the necklace back from him.

He nodded and stood. "Good hunting, sibkin. I would wish you good luck, but you seem to be making your own," he said, looking over his shoulder. Fred was standing at the window.

Randi smiled a little and nodded. "Good hunting, to you, too."


	24. Epilogue

_This chapter marks the official end of _Black Wolf: Three Fates_. It's a bit overdue, but hopefully enjoyable nonetheless. Updates of _The Last Hunter_ will resume now that this story is finished. (There may even be a BW4 in the future.) I'd like to do some more short stories, too, so if anyone has suggestions for characters you want to see more of, please let me know. Thanks once again to everyone who has read and reviewed. I truly appreciate it._

* * *

Epilogue

Akela smiles as he stepped off the DropShip. It was good to finally be in a place with an aura of familiarity after months of traveling through foreign space. Another Star Captain waved to him in greeting as she passed, and the lower ranking Warriors with her saluted. He returned the other officer's gesture and smiled. Although this planet was not Strana Mechty, his Clan was here, and he was home. Shouldering his pack again, he continued towards the main complex, casually taking in the sights as he walked.

Feeling firm hand clap down on his shoulder abruptly, he whipped around, bringing up his hands to strike. Instead of a threat, however, he was met with a smile.

"It is good to see that you have returned safely, Star Captain."

Akela sighed, letting his hands drop back to his sides. "Lonan..." He gave the MechWarrior a reproving look, then chuckled. "Trying to keep me on my toes?"

"Always, ovkhan," his subordinate replied, smirking.

"How have things been of late? I trust you have kept everyone in line for me."

Lonan nodded. "As you would have it, sir. I have been trying to keep the new transfers busy with trial scenarios and training. Most of them are doing quite well. MechWarrior Melli, in particular had excellent scores across the board."

"Ah, that is exactly the sort of thing I like to hear. Though there is probably some bad news for me, as well."

"There is. _She_ wants to see you, and she is not happy..."

The Star Captain sighed again and nodded. "Very well... Thank you, Lonan." He turned and trotted off down the hall, turning away from the administrative wing.

Eventually, he came to the gym. Just as he predicted, Helina was alone in the room, clad in a sleeveless jump-suit, literally knocking the stuffing out of a punching bag. She launched one last volley at the target, and then stepped back to check the read out on the force-meter. She gave a little "tch" sound, probably assuring herself that she could increase the score by a couple points, and grabbed her canteen.

"So, '_nephew'_..." she began, her voice icy, "how are your wounds?"

"Healing," he replied.

"Good." Helina turned around promptly and, carrying some of the energy from her turn, slapped him hard across the face.

Akela gave no resistance, and instead merely tried not to wince or let the blow prompt a reaction. Though she hardly held back, it was clear that the intent was to insult more than pain him. He resolved to let it do neither.

"You _stravag_," she hissed, giving him an accusing glare. "Do not think I am blind to your little game. Partnering with a Solaris con artist, falling in with mercenaries, and on top of that, ignoring my communiques for over a month... You just love walking that very fine line between 'unconventional tactics' and dezgra behavior, _quiaff?_"

Ignoring the tiny needles still bristling in his facial nerves, retrieved a small metal box from his pack and offered it to her. Helina snatched it away and opened it quickly, glowering at him once before examining the contents of the package. "Hmph, all I can say is that you have at least completed your mission. It certainly took you long enough," she grumbled.

"Now, I promised I would retrieve the Black Wolf for you. You doubt my word, _quineg?_"

Helina pursed her lips and looked back at him critically. "And what of the freebirth who took you to it?"

"I silenced him," Akela replied simply.

"Good." She took a step closer, examining the graze wound on his scalp, and then looked back into his eyes. "And what of your sibkin?" she asked, a pleased if somewhat malicious smile on her face. "You had to have the _Timber Wolf_ to get this, so you must have had her, too."

"Randi Wolf is dead."

The Star Colonel stepped back and gave him a stern look, her electric amber eyes scanning him quickly. Unable to pinpoint any dishonesty, she gave him one last suspicious glance and returned her attention to the box.

_'Aff, Randi _Wolf_ is dead... There is only Randi Greene, now,'_ Akela mused. _'I hope that she is happy.'_

"You did complete your mission," Helina interrupted his thoughts. "I will even concede that you have saved us some resources."

"Thank you, ovkhan."

"Do not thank me, Akela," she warned. "I am beginning to regret sponsoring you for your bloodname."

Breaking his hereto reserved expression, he let a sly grin slip over his face. "Come now... We both know that you are far too mission-minded to cut out the asset of a good officer for mere spite. I also doubt that you will find a replacement for me before you kick the bucket, old wolf."

"That is exactly what I was talking about," she said, frustration evident in her voice. "Try as I might to make a proper officer of you, I cannot seem to stamp out your rebellious streak. I think your unconventionality will be your end. It almost was, this time."

"And look what convention has done for us so far," he shot back. "Look what it has done for the Coyotes. They continue to stagnate in 'tradition,' while the other Clans plot to bury them. We will suffer the same fate if we do not continue to adapt."

"You have no idea what you are talking about," Helina chided him, closing the box again. "Hopefully, though, some rest will help you see how foolish you are being. Now go, your mission is over."

He frowned, but did as he was bid, and left the gym for his quarters. _'You are wrong, though, _ovkhan_. My mission has only begun. I refuse to let my Clan stagnate.'_

* * * * *

"A toast! To large bonus awards and finished contracts!" Fred announced, raising his glass.

The others toasted with him, giving a unified reply of, "Cheers!" amidst some good-natured chuckles.

"Well, all things considered," he continued, taking a sip of his beer, "I think we made it through that pretty well."

"It certainly could've been worse," Randi agreed, leaning back in her chair.

"That reminds me..." Fred looked over at Harrison curiously. "How did you manage to do such a number on Akela?"

"I didn't exactly waste my time in the infantry," the older man said, chuckling.

"Wait—_infantry_?"

He gave a dismissive snort and shook his head, smirking. "I told you I was in the military. What'd ya _think_ I did?"

Fred toyed with his fork a little, nudging a frozen pea across his plate, and shrugged. "Uh, I don't know... Fix 'Mechs? Peel potatoes?"

"Yeah... That's how I got this limp," Harrison said sardonically. "A _potato_ shot me in the leg." He rolled his eyes, and Ned stifled a laugh.

"Well, um..." Fred turned and pointed to Ned, ignoring his other companions. "What did _you_ do before this?"

"I was an exotic dancer," the younger tech replied, deadpan, and took a bite of his pasta. The rest of the table went silent, with a variety of somewhat bemused expressions painted across their faces.

As her partner glanced over at her, Randi simply shrugged. "You already know what _I_ used to do."

"Well, I think we've all learned a valuable lesson today. Always know your employees' history," Fred joked, finally, giving a nod to Harrison.

"Pfft, you're one to talk," he interjected. "You got kicked out of the army!"

"My point exactly. I should have done a background check on myself." Fred grinned and stood, gathering up his plate and silverware. "Anybody finished?"

"Yeah, I think I'm done," Ned replied, handing over his plate, and then Harrison's, as well.

Randi stood also, collecting the leftover food, and followed Fred into the kitchen. "Thanks for dinner."

"Heh, it was carry-out."

"Still." She smiled and started boxing up the remaining food. "So, do we have any contracts lined up now?"

"Not at the moment. First, I think we need to hire on at least one more MechWarrior," he replied, as he began washing the dishes. "Two, if we can. And I really do mean to do some better background checks this time."

"That would be for the best," Randi said, chuckling. "What about the _Dragon?_"

"Sell it, probably. Prewitt won't be needing it." He glanced over at Randi and frowned. "He'll never be able to pilot again."

She mirrored his expression, and crossed her arms. "I can't say I have any sympathy for him, after all he's done. ...After what he's done to you..." She sighed, remembering the fear she had felt both times that the Solaran had gone after her partner. _'Am I going to keep quiet about this forever?'_

He fell silent for a moment, biting his lip lightly in thought. "You know, that reminds me... Before, when I was in the hospital, there was something I wanted to tell you. I should have told you," he continued. He set the dish he was washing back into the sink and turned around, frowning a little. "I just..."

She laid a hand on his shoulder lightly, in reassurance. "Whatever it was, don't worry about it. We made it through that, and through this. That's all that matters, right?"

"I don't think it is. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"It's about Akela. You and he..."

"Were close," she said slowly.

"Oh." Fred nodded and looked down at the floor.

"But not in the way that I think you mean," Randi continued. "He was—is—my brother. I do care about him in an odd, dysfunctional sort of way. I think he feels the same about me. But, no, we were never involved romantically." Then, she added with a chuckle, "He got on my nerves far too much for that."

"I'm sorry, then, for assuming."

"No, you do not need to apologize. You did not know any differently."

"Alright. I don't mean to pry, asking things like that. I just, well, I wanted to make sure I wasn't interfering."

"What do you...?" Her voice trailed off as he looked back at her.

He paused, then leaned over and kissed her lightly. "I love you, Randi."

Feeling her heart skip a beat, she returned the kiss, a little deeper, and smiled. "I love you, too."


End file.
